LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. J 






l' V ^^ 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 







112 Washington " 



BLAMES 

See ;pa£e 2.3*6 . 



- 






THE 



Arena and the Throne. 



..T.T 



L. T. TOWNSEND, D. D., 

AUTHOR OF "CREDO," " SWORD AND GARMENT," "GOD-MAN," 
ETC., ETC. 



BOSTON: 

LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS. 

New York : 

lee, shepard and dillingham. 

1874. 



^%-b 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873, 

By LEE AND SHEPARD, 

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 



Stereotyped at the Boston Stereotype Foundry, 
No. 19 Spring Lane. 



TO 

I 

MY S T E P-F A TH E R, 

ALVIN FLETCHER, 

WHOSE KINDNESS TO THE FATHERLESS DESERVES 

A LARGER RETURN THAN WE HAVE 

POWER TO GIVE, 

®jm; $otame 

IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED. 



PREFACE. 



The subjects herein discussed were first treated 
with no thought of publication. They grew into 
their present shape while the author was engaged 
in professional duties in the pulpit and lecture- 
room. One day they formed a voluntary rela- 
tionship, looked like a book, were presented to 
the publishers, and accepted. 

If the public receives this volume with the 
same favor as other books of the author have 
been received, he will be satisfied. 

(5) 



THE FIELD. 



O. rack me not to such extent; 

These distances belong to Thee; 
The world's too little for Thy tent, 

A grave too big for me. Herbert. 

Thy breath sustains yon fiery dome ; 

But man is most thy favored home. Sterling. 

Behold this midnight splendor, — worlds on worlds; 
Ten thousand add and twice ten thousand more, 
Then weigh the whole; one soul outweighs them all, 
And calls the seeming vast magnificence 
Of unintelligent creation poor. Young. 

Not to this evanescent speck of earth 
Poorly confined; the radiant tracts on high 
Are our exalted range ; intent to gaze 
Creation through, and from that full complex 
Of never-ending wonders, to conceive 
Of the Sole Being right. Thomson. 

O rich and various man ! thou palace of sight and sound, 
carrying in thy senses the morning, and the night, and the 
unfathomable galaxy; in thy brain the geometry of the city 
of God ; in thy heart the power of love and the realms of 
right and wrong. An individual man is a fruit which it costs 
all the foregoing ages to form and ripen. He is strong, not 
to do, but to live; not in his arms, but in his heart; not as 
an agent but as a fact. Emerson. 

Man, if he compares himself with all that he can see, is at 
the zenith of power; but if he compares himself with all 
that he can conceive, he is at the nadir of weakness. 

COLTON. 

Up, man ! for what if thou with beasts hast part, 
Since in the body framed of dust thou art? 
Yet know thyself upon the other side 
Higher than angels, and to God allied. Trench. 
II 



Roll on, ye stars! exult in youthful prime; 
Mark with bright curves the printless steps of Time : 
Near and more near your beamy cars approach, 
And lessening orbs on lessening orbs encroach : 
Flowers of the sky ! ye, too, to age must yield, — 
Frail as your silken sisters of the field ! 
Star after star from heaven's high arch shall rush, 
Suns sink on suns, and systems systems crush, 
Headlong, extinct, to one dark centre fall, 
And Death, and Night, and Chaos mingle all! 
Till o'er the wreck, emerging from the storm, 
Immortal Nature lifts her changeful form, 
Mounts from her funeral pyre on wings of flame, 
And soars and shines, -another and the same. 

Darwin. 

Ye golden lamps of heaven ! farewell, 

With all your feeble light; 
Farewell, thou ever-changing moon, 

Pale empress of the night! 
And thou, refulgent orb of day ! 

In brighter flames arrayed, 
My soul, that springs beyond thy sphere, 

No more demands thine aid. 
Ye stars are but the shining dust 

Of my divine abode, 
The pavement of those heavenly courts 

Where I shall reign with God. Doddridge. 



Learn more reverence ; not for rank or wealth ; that needs 

no learning; r 

That comes quickly — quick as sin does! ay, and often 

leads to sin ; 
But for Adam's seed — man! Trust me, 'tis a clay above 

your scorning, 
With God's image stamped upon it, and God's kindling 

breath within. Mrs. Browning. 
12 



THE FIELD. 



IS the entire physical universe inhabited or in- 
habitable, are questions which for two centuries 
have received, from able disputants, both affirmative 
and negative answers. As each last writer has closed 
his argument, he seems to have completely silenced 
all opponents ; but anon is himself silenced by some 
new comer with hands full of additional data. 

The advocates of a Plurality of Inhabited Worlds 
find in Fontenelle their first and ablest advocate. His 
efforts at popularizing the discoveries of Newton and 
the calculations of Kepler, which had just then intro- 
duced the system of modern astronomy, were success- 
ful. His " Plurality of Worlds," published in 1686, 
was full of freshness, intelligence, and grace, and has 
justly won much praise for the author. 

Twelve years later, " Cosmotheoros," by Christian 
Huygens, a Dutchman, — a work which is far less 
pleasing in style, but far more correct, scientifically, 
than Fontenelle, — appeared in Paris. The various 
other treatises that immediately followed were little 
else than imitations of Fontenelle and Huygens. The 
controversy between Sir David Brewster, supporting 
the idea of inhabited planets, and Mr. Whewell, con- 

13 



14 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

tradicting it, brought out, in 1833, all the new scien- 
tific material then known, which in any way bore 
upon the subject. The works of Richard A. Proctor 
have given us the products of the more recent investi- 
gations, and are worthy of careful study.* 

It will be seen, upon review of the different argu- 
ments and speculations presented, that, from first to 
last, and on both sides, there has been but slight vari- 
ation in the line of reasoning followed. Arguments 
from analogy are the favorite ones, especially for those 
supporting the theory of a plurality of inhabited worlds. 
The planets resemble the earth, the fixed stars resem- 
ble the sun ; therefore it is concluded the planets are 
inhabited, and the fixed stars have attending inhabited 
planets. 

Another argument is drawn from what is regarded 
as the consistency of things. It is claimed that it ill 
accords with the goodness, grandeur, and magnifi- 
cence of the Divine Being, to people this earth with 
intelligent and moral beings, leaving the surrounding 
worlds, which are of immensely superior proportions, 
silent and empty. To say that these arguments, as 
variously developed and illustrated from year to year, 
have but little weight, and that they have been easily 
answered, would be saying what is not true.f 

No one can go forth and gaze upon the illimitable 

* M. Flammarion, M. Figurier, and a score of men of less 
note, have, from time to time, written upon the subject, bit 
have, added scarcely anything of importance bearing upon 
that side of the argument represented by the amusing and 
ingenious " Conversations " of Fontenelle. 

t Appendix A. 



THE FIELD. 15 

heavens with anything like due appreciation of magni- 
tudes, without being well nigh overwhelmed ; in such 
contemplation one feels not like expanding into an 
angel, but like shrinking into a mote, and is able to 
find for the emotions excited no fitter expression than 
the words of inspiration, " When I consider thy heav- 
ens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars 
w T hich thou hast ordained ; what is man, that thou art 
mindful of him, or the son of man, that thou visitest 
him?" 

Replies to the ever- repeated forms of arguments in 
support of the plurality of inhabited worlds based 
upon analogy and the consistency of things, have been, 
from age to age, as uniform as the arguments them- 
selves. Differences between the earth and every 
known astronomical body have been pointed out, of 
sufficient magnitude, it has been claimed, to destroy 
the weight of the argument from analogy ; while the 
force of the argument from consistency, it has been 
reasoned, depends altogether upon the relative posi- 
tion of humanity in the universe. If man's greatness 
is not measured by his physical properties, or if to be 
a man* is greater than to be a planet, which certain 
scientists seem to deny, then this little earth, despite 
its littleness, may consistently have a place in the 
divine mind and economy, to which every other 
planet is an utter stranger. 

If the majestic workmanship of God is not confined 
chiefly to Jupiter and his moons, nor to Saturn and his 
rings, nor to the magnificence of double stars, nor to the 
magnitudes of the nebulae, nor to any of these temporal 
things, but to man, then it is enough, and the consist- 



1 6 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

ency of things is sufficiently preserved, even if all 
these immense astronomical bodies in the universe 
have no higher or other use save to regulate for man 
the earth's motions, to aid him in his otherwise peril- 
ous navigations, and by study and contemplation to 
awaken in him thoughts of the skill, power, and 
grandeur of the Infinite One. And this earth, in its 
sea, soil, and atmosphere, may be teeming with inhab- 
itants, visible and invisible to the naked eye, simply to 
show God to man as in an ever-unfolding revelation, 
which more and more fully dawns upon him at every 
advancing step of his ceaseless scientific investigations 
and discovery ; and it is possible, also, that not a thing 
of life is. to be found upon any other planet, because 
they can there serve no such purpose. In fine, it is 
claimed by those representing this side of the ques- 
tion, that in precisely the proportion that man, by tel- 
escopic research and spectroscopic analysis, can make 
out the physical conditions and proportions of planet, 
star, or nebula, in that proportion is the end of their 
creation completely subserved ; it is enough, accord- 
ing to this, which we denominate the theological idea, 
that man can see, not that others must occupy, the 
planets. Consequently, it is argued that the eyes of 
the spiritual universe may be fixed upon this earth 
with an intensity of interest in comparison with which 
the entire physical universe beside may pale into the 
merest insignificance. 

In addition to this, the theological argument against 
the plurality of inhabited worlds rarely fails to make 
its appearance, whenever the subject, from this point 
of view, is presented. The difficulty, as set forth by 



THE FIELD. 1 7 

this argument, relates to the discrepancy between the 
theological and the scientific view of the universe. 
According to theology, this earth, in point of interest, 
is the centre of the physical universe ; it has received 
a visit in person from the Creator ; it has witnessed 
the union between Deity and humanity ; upon it over- 
whelming interests are represented as culminating ; 
humanity, created in the image of God, springing from 
one federal head, is working out its probation upon 
this planet, and upon no other : the eyes of the spirit- 
ual universe are accordingly, and almost immovably, 
fixed upon it ; and the hosts of heaven are ministering 
to its inhabitants.* In fine, it is extremely difficult to 
overcome the objection of infidelity, that Christianity 
lavishes altogether too great attentions upon this earth, 
if it is only one of many similar inhabited worlds. 
The single point of the divine manifestation in the 
person of Jesus is to most minds an overwhelming 
objection, while such a visit and manifestation are per- 

* Trench well states the case: "Scripture is no story of 
the material universe. A single chapter is sufficient to tell 
us that ' God made the heavens and the earth.' Man is the 
central figure there ; or, to speak more truly, the only figure : 
all which is there besides serves but as a background for him. 
He is not one part of the furniture of this planet, not the 
highest merely in the scale of its creatures, but the lord of 
all ; sun. moon, and stars, and all the visible creation, bor- 
rowing all their worth and their significance from the rela- 
tions where they stand to him. Since he appears therein the 
ideal worth and dignity of his unfallen condition, and even 
now, when only a broken fragment of the sceptre with which 
once he ruled the world remains in his hand, such he is com- 
manded to regard himself still." 
2 



1 8 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

fectly consistent, nay, inevitably demanded, provided 
the earth is unique ; but it is altogether incompatible 
with the scientific view which regards this as a paltry 
world in the midst of immeasurable other worlds of 
the same sort, and of vastly grander proportions. It 
is a pertinent question, which will never fail of being 
asked, How is it possible that the Divine One could 
consistently leave the glories of his empire to dwell 
upon a mote — a mote so small that its absence, 
with that of all its inhabitants, would scarcely be 
missed from the physical universe? 

We are aware that to these questions various expla- 
nations have been given. This, that, and the other 
relief from the difficulty have been beautifully, forci- 
bly, and eloquently presented by Dr. Chalmers, whom 
no writer has surpassed in these discussions ; but still, 
after the exhilaration of his sentences is exhausted, we 
inevitably feel ourselves falling back into the train of 
customary thought and ordinary expression ; and the 
reaction, in spite of ourselves, arouses suspicions ad- 
verse to revelation. In point of fact, a reconciliation 
between the theological and scientific view is reached, 
if reached at all, through unnatural distortions. We 
weep and fear ; the conviction stares us full in the 
face that the fundamental idea of Christianity is, that 
every man, of the lowest cast, and outcast even, is 
of more value than all the physical worlds flying in 
majesty and grandeur above us, together with every- 
thing they contain ; and also, that intensity of interest 
throughout the spiritual universe is centred upon this 
earth, because it alone is the home of a class of beings 
the like of which nowhere else exists — beings who 



THE FIELD. 1 9 

are in the line of promotion to the highest positions 
bestowed upon any created intelligences. Whereas, 
on the other hand, as already pointed out, if all these 
regions of space are full of inhabitable and inhabited 
worlds, then this little earth on which we dwell, with 
all its inhabitants, is, as Whewell forcibly expresses it, 
" annihilated by the magnitudes about us." * 

In the present review of the general question before 
us we are not to ask, what can God do, but what has 
he done, and what are the facts which can be deduced 
in support of given speculations. This limitation 
will, we think, not only be allowed, but demanded, by 
every intelligent reader ; for otherwise there would be 
no limit to the possibilities that may be imposed upon 
us by fertile imaginations. We may imagine civil- 
ized and religious inhabitants upon the diminutive 
planetoids, upon meteoric stones, and upon the wild 
and bare volcanic peaks of the moon ; we may sup- 
pose that the entire celestial ether is inhabited by re- 
sponsible beings ; we may say, if disposed, that there 
are a million intelligences like ourselves holding wise 
converse upon the rich tapestry of a sunset-cloud ; we 
may assert, with Giordano and Bruno, that the interior 
of the earth is inhabited ; that the fabled Ariel and 
sylphs people the air, that naiads and water-sprites 
people the seas, that gnomes inhabit the darkness, and 
salamanders the fire. But clearly enough all such 
imaginary suppositions are to be ruled out of the pres- 
ent discussion. To make clear our position in a word, 
it is this : inasmuch as science proves that the astro- 

* Appendix B. 



20 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

nomical bodies are uninhabitable by physical and 
moral agents something like ourselves, by exactly so 
much may our confidence be re-established in the 
direct biblical representations, but shaken respecting 
a plurality of inhabited worlds. 

It hardly need be stated that facts bearing upon 
these matters are at present numerous and reliable to 
an extent hardly dreamed of until of late. The phys- 
ical sciences are now systematized as never before, and 
within the past few years have been making almost 
incredible advances. Political economy has so ar- 
ranged avocations in harmony with the principles of 
division of labor, that every man is allowed and asked 
to give exclusive attention to his favorite field of inves- 
tigation. The astronomer may study the heavens, 
while the manufacturer clothes him, and the agri- 
culturist feeds him, and the merchant holds for ex- 
change his products and needed supplies, while the 
mechanic builds his observatory, the machinist manu- 
factures his wonderful instruments of observation, and 
while the mathematician furnishes his no less won- 
derful tables of calculation ; and each in turn receives 
an almanac in compensation thereof. With such facil- 
ities at hand, with all the modern improvements of 
art and invention, it would be marvellous if there were 
not occasion to change some of the hypotheses that 
were started years ago by such men as Copernicus, 
Galileo, and Kepler, and ably defended by Chalmers 
and his followers. 

Il is also too well known hardly to allow mention, 
that the physical condition of the heavenly bodies was 
formerly ascertained solely by means of astronomical 



THE FIELD. 21 

and mathematical calculations.' Their weight, dis- 
tances, and relative density were estimated, very early, 
with surprising approximation. But more recently, 
estirnates have been reduced to a nicety and precision 
almost incredible. The science of chemistry, as well 
as the higher mathematics, has come to the aid of 
those engaged upon these matters. The chemist and 
the astronomer have harmoniously joined their forces. 
An astronomical observatory has now appended to it 
a stock of appliances such as hitherto was only to be 
found in the chemical laboratory. A devoted corps 
of volunteers of all nations have directed their tele- 
scopic and spectroscopic artillery to every region of 
the universe. The sun, the spots on his surface, the 
corona, and the red and yellow prominences seen 
round him during total eclipses, the moon, the plan- 
ets, comets, auroras, nebulae, white stars, yellow stars, 
red stars, variable and temporary stars, each tested 
by the prism, is compelled to show its distinguishing 
prismatic colors. Rarely before in the history of 
science has enthusiastic perseverance, directed by pen- 
etrative genius, produced within ten years so brilliant 
a succession of discoveries. It is not merely the chem- 
istry of sun and stars that is subjected to analysis by 
the spectroscope ; the laws of their being are now 
subjects of direct investigation ; and already we have 
glimpses of their evolutional history through the stu- 
pendous power of this most subtile and delicate test : 
thus solar and stellar chemistry have been succeeded 
by solar and stellar physiology.* 

* Sir William Thomson. 



22 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

So admirably is this work done, that the light from 
every visible orb that hangs in or flashes over the 
sky, even the most distant, is taken into the labora- 
tory, is analyzed, and sifted, and made to report as to 
what is the physical and chemical construction and 
composition of those orbs : their relative weight is 
also thereby estimated, and their moments measured 
with approximate accuracy ; spectrum analysis may 
yet correct the most exact mathematical calcula- 
tions hitherto received.* This union of optics, math- 

* The science of spectrum analysis has so far modified the 
whole system of astronomy that we may state in a word the 
principles upon which it is applied. It is ascertained upon 
experiment that any solid, liquid, or gas, when heated until 
luminous, gives off a light peculiar to itself. Upon the spec- 
trum each peculiar light finds its exact place, and shows its 
peculiar characteristics, by means of the lines it assumes 
thereon ; so that by the spectra of any light known, be it 
moon-light, planet-light, sun-light, gas-light, or the light 
from any other substance, its chemical character can be accu- 
rately detected. One can also, thereby, trace resemblances 
and dissimilarities between our earth and the other heavenly 
bodies, and thus ascertain, at once, whether or not they are 
inhabitable. This science of spectrum analysis, it should be 
noticed, is not recent in all its particulars. It has had an 
historic growth. 

The prismatic analysis of light was first discovered by 
Newton, and was estimated by himself as being " the oddest, 
if not the most considerable, detection which hath hitherto 
been made in the operations of nature." But the obtaining 
of a pure spectrum, with the discovery of the dark lines, 
was reserved for the nineteenth century. Our fundamental 
knowledge of the dark lines is due solely to Fraunhofer. 
Wollaston saw them, but did not discover them. Brewster 
labored long and well to perfect the prismatic analysis of 



THE FIELD. 23 

ematics, and chemistry has relieved the science of 
modern astronomy of many of its former uncertain- 
ties, and has thrown over it an imposing splendor 
that renders it one of the most inspiring and enno- 
bling, as well as attractive fields of investigation. As- 
tronomical science is no longer in its cradle, but has 
shown its face in public, and left off its childish prat- 
tle. " Formerly one man observed the stars for all 
Christendom, and the rest of the world observed him. 
But now, up and down Europe and North America, 
from the deep blue of Italian skies to the cold, frosty 
atmospheres of St. Petersburg and Glasgow, from the 
clear sky of New' England to the salubrious atmos- 
phere of California, the stars are conscious of being 

sun-light; he laid important foundations for a grand super- 
structure, which he scarcely lived to see. Piazzi Smyth, by 
spectroscopic observation performed on the Peak of Tene- 
riffe, added greatly to our knowledge of the dark lines pro- 
duced in the solar spectrum by the absorption of our own 
atmosphere. The prism became an instrument for chemical 
qualitative analysis in the hands of Fox Talbot and Her- 
schel. But the application of this test to solar and stellar 
chemistry had never been suggested, either directly or indi- 
rectly, by any other naturalist, when Stokes taught it in 
Cambridge, at some time prior to the summer of 1852. 

To the toil of Kirchhoff and of Angstrom we owe large- 
scale maps of the solar spectrum. These maps now consti- 
tute the standards of reference for all workers in the field. 
Plucker and Hittorf made the important discovery of changes 
in the spectra of ignited gases produced by changes in the 
physical condition of the gas. Lockyer and Falkland have 
furnished us with the effects of varied pressure upon the 
quality of light emitted by glowing gases. 



24 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

everywhere watched, and can no longer hide from us 
their mysteries." * 

Seventy years ago Dr. Chalmers conjectured that 
the time might come when astronomical instruments 
would arrive at such perfection as to afford an ob- 
server an inside view of the planets. He had no mis- 
giving, apparently, should that time arrive, that we 
would see men like ourselves, " with as close resem- 
blance," — to employ an expression of some early 
astronomer, — " as that existing between one egg and 
another." But these rapid advances, by means of new 
appliances, which have brought under our range new 
and hitherto unexplained phenomena, report less and 
less in favor of the scientific, but more and more in 
support of the theological idea ; so much so that no 
well-informed person will now venture to repeat the 
assertions of former writers as to the general inhab- 
itableness of the physical universe.f 

Comets and Zodiacal Lights.% — Who has seen 

* De Quincey. 

t Perhaps our spiritualistic friends desire us to make an 
exception in case of a so-well-informed person as Mr. An- 
drew Jackson Davis. He seems to have more than realized, 
it is true, the most sanguine expectations of the great 
Scotch divine; for he has seen with the naked eye (if we be- 
lieve his claims) all those things which Dr. Chalmers desired 
to see but could not, or, if possible, more incredible still, he 
has visited our planetary neighbors in person, and has made 
their intimate acquaintance. A spiritualistic friend told us 
the other day that science could never go beyond spiritual 
clairvoyance, and that, therefore, all views at variance with 
those of Mr. Davis should be abandoned. 

X Of zodiacal light we shall say not much, since so little is 



THE FIELD. 25 

one of those bodies which we call comets, which at 
times spreads out its silvery veil over a third part 
of the visible heavens, without being filled with de- 
light or wonder? How startling the journeys of these 
bodies ! From cold, ice-bound regions beyond the 
planetary system they come, onward towards the sun 
they go, into its very face and eyes they fly, until he 
glares upon them with twenty-five thousand six hun- 
dred times fiercer heat than that with which a ver- 
tical sun at midday scorches our equator, and then 
away they return to another baptism in regions of 
eternal frost. 

The matter of which comets are composed was 
long since known to be of the least appreciable spe- ) 
cific gravity. The comet of 1847, known as Miss 
Mitchel's, passed directly over a star of the fifth mag- 
nitude ; and yet its light, which would have been 
entirely obliterated by a moderate fog extending only 
a few yards from the earth, appeared in no way en- 
feebled. " I have examined," says General Mitchel, 
" the most minute telescopic stars, and have received 
their light undimmed, though it had penetrated thou- 
sands and tens of thousands of miles of this cometary 
matter." The evidence is conclusive that the comet 
is only vapor, and almost perfectly transparent. The 
most fleecy and gossamer clouds that rest in the sky, or 
are driven hither and thither by the idlest breath of 
a fitful summer breeze, is a hundred fold more sub- 
really known respecting it. It is, doubtless, a solar append- 
age, perhaps of the nature of comets, or of meteors. Certain- 
ly, judging from the present reports of scientific investigation, 
it is something not very distinct from one or the other. 



26 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

stantial than the comet. It is claimed by those who 
have carefully investigated these subjects, that the 
substance of comets is so attenuated that if their di- 
ameter were a hundred thousand miles, having a pro- 
portionate length, they would not contain so much 
matter as would be required to fill an ordinary-sized 
gentleman's hat. The convulsions feared should a 
comet some time strike the earth are altogether beyond 
the possibility of taking place. These phosphorescent, 
rather fluorescent, bodies are found to be composed 
largely of pure vapor of carbon.* 

Here, then, are certain bodies of vast proportions, 
the largest objects in the solar system, of magnificent 
appearance, self-luminous, and also to a certain extent 
reflective, which are of such a character as to so far 
preclude the idea of inhabitants that not an intelligent 
and informed advocate of such an idea can, first or 
last, be found. Now, may we not apply the same 
reasoning to comets which is applied to other astro- 
nomical bodies? Have we not a right to ask, Why 
were comets created, unless they are inhabited ? 
Why did God make these grand displays of physical 
phenomena, sending them flying through the universe 
in exact orbits and with exact periods, unless they 
somehow bear upon their vapory and gas-lit surface 
intelligent and moral beings? How can an astro- 

* The light of Brorsen's comet has been subjected to crit- 
ical spectrum analysis, and found to be nearly identical with 
that of highly heated vapor of carbon. The composition of 
this comet (and it is doubtless true of all others), by chemical 
analysis, discloses also an ingredient which does not coincide 
with anything now known upon the earth. 



THE FIELD. 2 H t 

nomical body be so charming, grand, and vast in its 
proportions if it is not peopled with intelligences? 
And if not thus peopled, is it not evidence that there 
is a glaring inconsistency between the divine wisdom, 
skill, and benevolence, on the one hand, and such a 
needless expenditure of creative energy on the other? 
Such are the facts : let each answer for himself. 

Shootiiig Stars, Meteors, and Aerolites. — These 
names represent bodies of the same general physical 
character ; * the difference between them is one of 
circumstance only. The shooting star disappears 
when far up the sky ; the meteor comes near to us, 
but disappears, sometimes with loud reports, before 
reaching the earth, while the aerolite reaches the earth 
unconsumed. Some of these displays, especially the 
October and November meteoric showers, are grand 
and imposing, and numberless eyes watch them from 
nightfall until dawn-light. These bodies belong to 
systems which revolve about the sun with the regu- 
larity of planets. They are as independent in their 
creation as Jupiter or the sun ; they are not mere 
fuel for the sun to feed upon, as certain astronomers 
have conjectured ; they retard, rather than increase, his 
flames ; they are not, as Figuier supposes, mere mes- 

* Aerolites bring us, of known substances, oxide of iron, 
oxides of nickel, of cobalt, and of manganese, magnesia, 
lime, silica, copper, and sulphur, and have, the appearance 
of having been changed to a solid from a liquid state under 
a dense atmosphere of hydrogen gas. Meteors are dissipat- 
ed in their passage through the air, but the unconsumed part 
sometimes falls to the earth in the form of dust of yellow 
chloride of iron. Cometary meteors we need not discuss. 



28 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

sengers sent to us across space from other worlds, 
to tell us of the composition of their soil ; nor, as Sir 
William Thomson suggests, are they express trains 
from other worlds to ours, freighted with the germs of 
life and seeds of vegetation. These interesting vis- 
itants come rather, without reasonable doubt, from 
trains of small planets, little asteroids, which circle 
around the sun, forming different systems, and con- 
stituting belts analogous to Saturn's rings : and the 
reason for the comparatively large number of mete- 
ors which we observe annually about the 14th of No- 
vember is, that at that time the earth's orbit cuts 
through some meteoric belt. We have probably not 
yet passed through the very nucleus, or densest part ; 
but thirteen times, in Octobers and Novembers, from 
October 13, A. D. 902, to November 14, 1866, inclu- 
clusive (this last time having been correctly predicted 
by Professor Newton, of Yale College), we have, by 
actual observation, passed through a part of the belt 
greatly denser than the average. When in their revo- 
lution these bodies encounter the earth's atmosphere, 
they are ignited by friction, and give us safe and inex- 
pensive, but magnificent displays of fireworks. The 
aggregate number of the meteoric systems is be} T ond 
calculation, and the number of meteors composing 
each system is next to infinite.* 

* Professor Newton calculates, upon reliable data, that, on 
an average, in the course of a single day 7,500,000 meteors, 
large enough to be visible to the naked eve, are consumed in 
the earth's atmosphere, and about 400,000,000 meteors, visi- 
ble through a telescope of moderate power, are thus con- 
sumed. Fifty points of radiation, at least, have been already 
discovered. 



THE FIELD. 20, 

Though knowing little of their extent and number, 
they tell us some things of importance. They report, 
as does everything else in the universe, how lavish 
is the Creator in his expenditures ; not merely bread 
enough, but bread to spare, is the law of his kingdom 
— a fact which is loaded with analogies against the 
theory of a plurality of inhabited worlds. 

The Nebulce constitute a class of astronomical 
bodies concerning which there has been, perhaps, 
more discussion than respecting any others. These 
starry clusters, or patches of " starry powder," so 
called, seem to be of endless extent ; they rise one 
above another, and appear without limit to stretch 
away into God's immensity. Two theories, radically 
differing from one another, cover the various specula- 
tions presented. The first and oldest supposes them 
to be stellar clusters. Such a conclusion is natural, 
for at first sight they appear to be stars seen through 
mist. Powerful telescopes have been able to resolve 
some of them into distinct points of light ; supposi- 
tions were rife that with more powerful instruments 
of observation all the nebulous clusters could be thus 
resolved. It was further argued that each cluster con- 
stitutes a distinct stellar system. In harmony with 
this supposition, our sun is to be looked upon as an 
individual star, forming only a single unit in a cluster 
or mass of many millions of other similar stars, — a 
mere fragment in the midst of a universe of similar 
solar systems, represented as everywhere teeming with 
human inhabitants, subject to the same thoughts, 
experiences, and developments as characterize our- 
selves. 



30 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

The second, known as the Laplace theory, regards 
the nebulae as a luminous fluid, diffused through the 
universe, being now in a formative state, becoming, or 
soon to become, distinct stellar systems, like our own. 
It was natural for sceptical physicists, upon embracing 
this idea, to conclude that by natural processes, and 
without the intervention of a Creator, these nebulas 
are to become distinct systems, then completed worlds, 
which in time have the inherent power of producing 
plants, and brutes, and man. 

The first of these theories is now generally set aside. 
Among other things there has been of late a radical 
change as to the supposed distances of the nebulae. 
Professor Roscoe informs us that the opinion that 
their remoteness is what makes it so difficult to re- 
solve them can no longer be upheld, and that their 
nebulous appearance is not on account of their great 
distance, but because of the highly attenuated con- 
dition of the substances composing them.* 

* It is also the opinion of Sir John Herschel, supported by 
Lord Rosse, that the nebulae, as a class of objects, are not 
more distant than the nearest fixed stars. Said David Gill, 
in an address before the Edinburgh meeting of the British 
Association (1871), " From observations extending over 
eleven months, I concluded that the planetary nebula No. 37, 
in Ilerschel's 4th catalogue, possessed a very measurable 
parallax, and a considerable proper motion. Should further 
measures confirm this result, the true inference to be drawn 
is, that some of the planetary nebulae, at least, are nearer to us 
than the fixed stars, and probably perform an entirely distinct 
part in the economy of nature." " There are vast numbers 
of the nebulae," says Lord Rosse, "much too faint to be 
sketched or measured with any prospect of advantage, the 



THE FIELD. 3 1 

But in addition to the more accurate telescopic ex- 
aminations we have also the report of spectrum anal- 
ysis, which forever 'sets at rest the question of the 
physical character of the nebulas. They can no lon- 
ger, in the light of this science, to say the least, be 
represented as suns like ours. When Mr. Huggins 
brought the image of the nebulas upon the slit of his 
spectroscope, he found that he no longer had to do 
with a class of bodies of the nature even of stars ! * 

most powerful instruments we possess showing in them 
nothing of an organized structure, but merely a confused 
mass of nebulosity of varying brightness." "I believe," 
says Proctor, " that future researches will prove, not only 
that the Milky Way, as a whole, is much nearer than we 
have been imagining, but that portions of it are absolutely 
nearer to us than the brightest of the single stars." The 
researches of Huggins, Secchi, and Wullner, seem to indi- 
cate that the temperature of the nebulse is extremely high ; 
but those of Zollner, Frankland, and Lockyer indicate a 
comparatively low temperature. It is claimed by others that 
a moderate process of condensation would develop, from cool 
matter, as great an amount of heat as nebulous or stellar 
masses have as yet evinced. 

* " The conclusion," says Roscoe, " is obvious, that the close 
association of points of light in a nebula can no longer be 
accepted as proof that the object consists of true stars. These 
luminous points, in some nebulae at least, must be regarded 
as portions of matter denser, probably, than the outlying 
parts of the great nebulous mass, but still gaseous." 

The same writer, in another connection, affirms " that the 
nebulae are not groups of far-distant suns, because we find 
that the light which some of them give out is not the kind of 
light which such far-distant fixed stars must emit." Sir 
William Thomson, indorsing the discoveries of Huggins, 
claims that the light of the nebulae, so far as hitherto sensi- 



32 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

The light of some of them is very feeble. Mr. Lock- 
yer estimates that an ordinary sperm candle a quarter 
of a mile distant, would give off a light twenty thou- 
sand times more brilliant. Two thirds of the nebulae 
thus far examined are unhesitatingly pronounced gase- 
ous. They are composed of nitrogen and hydrogen 
united with certain unknown elements. It has been 
doubted by high authority whether a single nebula 
can be pointed out which contains light enough "to 
light a good-sized room." In view of all these facts, 
we seem forced to the conclusion that these number- 
less masses and points of light, which were formerly 
supposed to be suns like the sun in our planetary sys- 
tem, and which were thought to be attended by inhab- 
ited planets countless in number, are for the most part 
luminous gas ; those that are irresolvable are, at 
most, but primitive " fire-mist" u light;" while the 
resolvable are still in a gaseous state, though farther 
advanced than the irresolvable. We are misled by 
the term frequently employed — u clouds of fiery 
dust" — even, for, as a class of objects, the nebulce, 
like the comets, many of them, — two thirds at least, 
— are nothing but heated vapor. Respecting the re- 
maining one third, it is shown that as compared with 

ble to us, proceeds from incandescent hydrogen and nitrogen 
gases. Mr. Tait suggests that they may be gaseous exhala- 
tions, ignited by collisions between meteoric stones. 

"The spectroscope shows us," says David Gill, "that 
these nebula? are not stars, but incandescent gas. I am re- 
ported as saying that the conclusion I had arrived at was, 
that the nebula ' was ?iot a collection of matter, but a fixed 
star, 9 This is entirely wrong, and would have been more 
nearly correct had it been reversed." 



THE FIELD. 33 

our solar system they are not at all complete ; they 
are spiral in their movements and confused in their 
masses ; their forms are irregular, and destitute of any 
apparent system ; there seems not the slightest evi- 
dence that they have passed from their original chaotic 
state. To insist upon covering them, or any of their 
dependencies, with living intelligence, is, in the light 
of modern scientific inquiry, the wildest conjecture 
possible. If the theory of Laplace is true, they are 
certainly uninhabitable ; while the earlier and oppo- 
site theory, as we have seen, has at present not the 
slightest foundation.* 

One might as well live in the zodiacal light, or 
upon the intangible twilight, or upon the northern 
aurora, or in a gas flame, as upon the nebulae. There 
is as much evidence that those vast cumulous clouds 
of midsummer, which assume all kinds of fantastic 
shapes, — alpine mountains and royal palaces, — tinged 
with the richest tints of sunrise and sunset, are the 
abodes of life, as to suppose that these almost-intermi- 
nable tracts of nebulous matter are inhabited. 

To emphasize this thought is unnecessary, other 
than at the single point of its bearing upon the argu- 
ment from analogy and the consistency of things. All 
that has been said clearly weakens the force of these 
arguments. If we mistake not, they begin to menace 

* While the theory of Laplace, as a whole, has been of late 
years growing in favor, and justly so, still it must be confessed 
that it is beset, at certain points, with many objections. The 
nebulae are resolvable by the telescope, from a supposed mass 
of fluid, into distinct elements, and by the spectroscope from 
a solid or liquid state into the most attenuated gas. 



34 



THE ARENA AxVD THE THRONE. 



those who have hitherto employed them ; at least, the 
advocates of a plurality of inhabited worlds find, year- 
ly, less and less encouragement in the varied results 
of scientific investigation. Nineteen twentieths of the 
beautiful objects which glimmer in the midnight heav- 
ens, and which a few years since were thought by some 
to be inhabitable, are now transferred, without a dis- 
senting voice, from the scientific to the theological side 
of this question. Man need no longer be abashed, re- 
garding himself a mere mote, but may smile and lift 
his hand for the crown and sceptre which revelation 
has so manifestly designated as his exclusive possession. 

Fixed Stars are those self-luminous and twinkling 
orbs which occupy regions beyond our solar system, 
and which in stellar space rise, many deep, to heights 
and distances incomprehensible. Advocates of u more 
worlds than one " have been very confident and jubi- 
lant over data from this source. From the magnitude 
of these bodies and their resemblance to our sun, they 
have been claimed, with confidence which scarcely 
listens to objection, to be centres of systems of inhab- 
ited worlds in no respects inferior to the planets of 
our solar system, and in many respects vastly superior. 
Before we can feel at liberty, however, to admit all 
that has been presented for our unqualified acceptance 
respecting the fixed stars, we certainly have the right 
to enter upon a re-examination of former suppositions 
in the light of facts which modern scientific investi- 
gation presents to us. 

As early as 1814, Fraunhofer discovered that the 
spectra of the various fixed stars which he examined 
differ from that of the sun and planets. He came, 



THE FIELD. 35 

thus early, to the remarkable conclusion that the 
chemical constitution of the fixed stars must therefore, 
in some respects, differ from that of our solar system. 
There are differences so great between the fixed stars 
themselves, however, that such a sweeping conclusion 
as this of Fraunhofer may not be admitted by every 
one, especially by those who find certain strong anal- 
ogies between our sun and some of the fixed stars. 

A more recent statement is that of Professor Roscoe, 
which will doubtless be regarded by many as authorita- 
tive. " We have now arrived," he says, " at a distinct 
understanding of the physical constitution of the fixed 
stars : they consist of a white-hot nucleus, giving off a 
continuous spectrum, surrounded by an incandescent 
atmosphere, in which exist the absorbent vapors of 
the particular metals." But with this general state- 
ment we can hardly rest satisfied, since the different 
classes of fixed stars report to us, in each case, data 
distinct and characteristic. 

Stars of Variable Lustre form a curious class, and 
are at present studied with special interest. From our 
distant point of view they appear remarkably beauti- 
ful. But when the telescope and spectroscope, aided 
by the imagination, enable us to stand within hailing 
distance, nay, to plant our feet upon their surface and 
to penetrate beneath their fiery exterior, we find that 
the sublime energies which are at work upon and 
within them are well nigh appalling ; settled at once 
is the question of their inhabitability, and that of any 
system of planets which may or may not be revolving 
about them. The variableness, so beautiful to the 
naked eye, but so terrible to the eye of science, is the re- 



36 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

suit of enormous and sometimes sudden explosions of 
hydrogen gas. This fierce augmentation of light and 
heat would terminate the supposed organized planetary 
life in an instant.* No less fearful for these conjectured 
planetary inhabitants is the sudden diminution, and in 
some instances the entire extinction, of the light of the 
variable stars. Think of a system of inhabited worlds 
having a sun brilliant as ours, which perceptibly 
begins to wane with no returning spring-time ! f Or 
think of a system of worlds flooded one day with light 
and heat, the next plunged into the thickest dark- 
ness, and locked in the embrace of universal ice ! 
Sorrowful, indeed, the plight of those inhabitants.}: 

* Professor Roscoe bears out Lockyer and Jannsen in a cal- 
culation that if the intensity of the sun's rays were increased 
no more than were those of the stars in the Northern Crown 
in May, 1866, our solid globe would be dissipated in vapor 
almost as soon as a drop of water in a furnace. The temper- 
ature in the sunlight would rise at once to that only attaina- 
ble in the focus of the largest burning-glass. 

t The first two stars in Hydra, in less than a human life- 
time, changed, in the seventeenth century, from the fourth 
to the eighth magnitude, so that the most fearful and perpet- 
ual winter succeeded what had been perpetual summer. A 
notable star in the Swan varies from the fifth to the tenth 
magnitude. A star in Cepheus changes in five days from 
the third to the fifth magnitude. A star in Lyra in six days 
diminishes from the third to the fifth magnitude. A star 
in the Whale is subjected to remarkable changes ; waxing, 
waning, disappearing, and then relighting its flames, and 
shining for a time with steady brilliancy. 

X A noted star in the Great Bear vanished in the eighteenth 
century; the eighth and ninth stars of Taurus have also dis- 
appeared ; the fifty-fifth star of Hercules, a star in Auriga, 
the eleventh in Lupus, and several others in the catalogue of 



THE FIELD. 37 

Nay, these appearances may indicate that the entire 
class of variable and periodic stars are self-luminous 
bodies, as yet destitute of permanent forms, and like- 
wise destitute of attending regular planetary systems. 
Another class of fixed stars, known as double or 
compound stars, possess certain remarkable features. 
The earlier term, " double," is hardly exact, for many 
are found to be not only double, but triple, quadruple, 
and even multiple. M. Struve is authority for saying 
that not less than one in three or four of the fixed stars 
are compound. Still more remarkable is the fact that 
different parts of compound stars often shine with dif- 
ferent colors. A combination frequently occurring is 
crimson and blue.* The singular vicissitudes of light 
diffused upon the attendant planets (if they are attend- 
ed), in consequence of two suns in their firmament, is 
well nigh inconceivable by the poor mortals inhabit- 
ing the earth, who have but a single sun to light the 
day and a single moon to reflect the sun-light by night. 
In general, such suns will rise at different times. 
When the blue sun rises, it will for a time preside 
alone in the heavens, diffusing a blue morning. Its 
crimson companion, however, soon appearing, the 
lights of both being blended in the strongest combina- 
tion at intervals, may result in a midday of white light. 
As evening approaches, and the two orbs descend 
towards the western horizon, the blue sun w T ill first set, 

Ptolemy, have vanished, leaving their planetary inhabitants 
to raise their crops and grope their way under star-light. 

* The combination red and green is found in Hercules and 
Cassiopeia; brown and green, also brown and blue, in the 
Whale, Giraffe, Orion, Gemini, and Swan. 



38 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

leaving the crimson one alone in the heavens, and 
like a mighty conflagration will light up the western 
sky, and close the day. As the year rolls on, these 
changes will be varied in every conceivable manner. 
At those seasons when the suns are on opposite sides 
of the planet, crimson and blue days will alternate, 
without any intervening night ; and at the intermedi- 
ate epochs all the various intervals of rising and set- 
ting of the two suns will be exhibited. Clouds, wa- 
ters, and vegetation will each share in this multiplicity 
of changing hues.* The romance of all this witchery 
of star wonders is still further enhanced upon the dis- 
covery of stars which have the extraordinary power 
of changing their color, — - rightly named " chameleon 
stars." One of the components of a double star in Her- 
cules changed, in twelve years, from yellow, through 
gray, cherry red, and a most beautiful red, to yellow 
again. The variations produced, in consequence, can- 
not be described, nor realized, nor scarcely imagined. 
But it should be ever borne in mind that the more 
wonderful these marvels of stellar condition, the more 
inevitably are all these stars removed from the field of 
analogy, and the more surely are they rendered unin- 
habitable. The spectrum of every colored star, as we 
are assured lyy Kirchhoff, w 7 ants certain rays existing 
in our solar spectrum. We find, therefore, as in, case 
of the nebulae, that those of the fixed stars which are 
variable and compound, though grand and imposing 
astronomical bodies, are very far from helping the 
cause of More Worlds than One. But it is asked, Are 
there not white stars which present strong and unques- 

* Professor Lardner. Appendix C. 



THE FIELD. 39 

tioned analogies between themselves and the sun? It 
has been so claimed. , Our knowledge of some of 
them is yet limited. While awaiting additional facts, 
we must bear in mind that nothing yet like a planet 
has been discovered revolving around any one of the 
fixed stars. The absence of regular motion among the 
fixed stars ; the slowness of their changes, indicating 
extreme rarity ; their gyratory movements, indicating 
crudeness, long since led Humboldt to maintain the 
opinion that the whole weight of analogy is against ex- 
isting similarity between the sun and the fixed stars. 
The earlier supposition of Herschel, that some of the 
fixed stars — Alpha, Centauri, and Sirius — emit more 
light than the sun, is also now set aside as untenable. 
Later investigations, based upon a more accurate and 
extended observation of phenomena, show that their 
light in many instances is less than that of the sun, 
and that in this respect our sun, instead of being one 
of the least, is among the more important objects in the 
entire physical universe. 

The hypothesis so grandly stated by General Mitch- 
ell and others, that the sun, with its retinue of planets, 
is revolving about some distant centre, in common 
with other solar systems, is very far from receiving 
general indorsement. Regularity of motion in the 
solar system can be explained more easily upon a less 
complicated hypothesis. The earlier speculations of 
Kant, Lambert, and Wright (middle of the eighteenth 
century), subsequently indorsed and confirmed by Sir 
W. Herschel, that the Milky Way is a projection on 
the sphere of . a stratum of stars, in the midst of 
which our sun and system are placed, with a possible 



40 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

centre towards Sirius, is much more in harmony with 
recent discoveries.* Who can tell but ours is the only 
ripe sun in the universe! We may be forced to the 
conclusion, after all, that the grandest created thing is 
not at the large but at the small end of the telescope. 
It may turn out that a human being, with a tele- 
scope in one hand, a spectroscope in the other, and 
himself endowed with imagination, and not some 
actual inhabitant on those beautiful stars, is the one 
for whom magnificent stellar entertainments have 
been nightly given. The conceptions of Herschel 
and Laplace are no less grand that they are earthlings 
than if they had been denizens of Algol or Mira. 
Madness must indeed be in the brain of the astrono- 
mer who falls not often upon his knees. God is not 
shorn of his glory, nor have his purposes met defeat, 
though Brewster and Dr. Chalmers should chance to 
have been mistaken. We thank the one for his pro- 
found reasonings and thrilling suppositions, and the 
other for his sublime rhetorical flights ; but no man is 
infallible. "A theory," as Voltaire has quaintly re- 
marked, u is like a mouse, which may successfully pass 
nineteen holes, but is stopped at the twentieth." 

We thank Science for the much she has disclosed. 
We await yet greater revelations. Perhaps she will 
tell us anon that the astronomical centre of the physical 

* The illustration first proposed by Herschel is, that the 
universe of stars presents a form similar to that of two watch 
crystals, brought together so as to form a hollow double con- 
vex, and that the solar system is placed in or near the centre. 
Proctor, in his Essays on Astronomy, p. 331, has a diagram, 
given for another purpose, which may, however, prove a cor- 
rect representation of the stellar universe. 



THE FIELD. 




DIAGRAM FROM PROCTOR'S "ESSAYS ON ASTRONOMY." 



42 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

universe is identical with its theological centre, — both 
being not far from the present home of humanity. 

The Solar System. — The arguments from analogy 
and the consistency of things have been so weakened 
by investigations in the nebular and the stellar heavens 
that the theory of the general inhabitability of the solar 
system must be left to stand or fall upon its own mer- 
its ; presumptions in favor of such views there are not. 

The most majestic body in the solar system is the 
Sun. A theory, which gained for a time some head- 
way, claims that beneath the phosphorescent atmos- 
phere of the sun is a non-luminous atmosphere, sur- 
rounding an interior body protected from the exterior 
fiery rays, and thereby rendered suitable for habitation. 

" If," said Arago, u you ask me this questio'n, Is 
the sun inhabited? I should answer that I know 
nothing about it. But if you ask me if the sun can be 
inhabited by beings organized like those who people 
our globe, I should not hesitate to answer, Yes." 

This view is evidently an out-growth of the no 
longer tenable supposition that it is a wasteful econo- 
my to create grand and majestic bodies, and leave 
them destitute of intelligent inhabitants. Certainly, if 
such reasoning can anywhere apply, it is in the case 
before us. The size and magnificence of the sun reso- 
lutely demand inhabitants, if such characteristics fur- 
nish adequate reason for providing populations. To 
form a body equal to the sun in bulk, it would be 
necessary to roll into one nearly i ,400,000 globes of 
the size of our earth. Place together all the planets 
of our system, and as a product there would be a body 
five hundred times less in bulk than the sun. There- 



THE FIELD. 43 

fore, according to the reasoning sometimes employed, 
if any spot in the solar system is inhabited, then, by 
all odds, must the sun be thronged with inhabitants. 
But we have already thrice seen that Science no longer 
listens to such arguments. No matter how great, no 
matter how grand, the object may be, — the telescope 
and spectroscope take it in hand to settle the question 
without leave or license, and without the least respect for 
our preconceptions. Aided by the telescope we look 
upon a conflagration in the sun of such immense and 
appalling proportions as would instantly destroy organ- 
ized physical life, though distant from it by hundreds 
of thousands of miles. Under a July tropical sun, 
though ninety-four millions of miles away, we are full 
near enough for comfort. The theory of a non-lumi- 
nous atmosphere is a tremendous and obstinate effort 
to render habitable a realm which is most manifestly 
uninhabitable.* 

Lockyer, who has estimated the extent of the solar 
flames, has given us some startling figures. He has 
seen masses of flame leaping upward from the body 
of the sun twenty-seven thousand miles in height; and 
then, as if conscious of a defeated effort to destroy the 
universe, he has seen them settle back again to their 
ordinary level in a space of less than ten minutes. 

* The heat at the sun's surface, by accurate experiment, is 
found to be prodigious. The fiercest blaze of a furnace gives 
off not a seventh part as much heat. What form of life is 
there which is adapted to such abodes? The test of polari- 
zation of light, applied by Arago, has conclusively shown that 
the luminous matter of the sun is gaseous. But perhaps men 
could be so conditioned as to live in gas-flame. (?) 



44 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

Other flames have been seen to flash up to the enor- 
mous distance of from ninety to a hundred thousand 
miles. The vast volumes of smoke rising from these 
solar eruptions can be distinctly seen with the eye un- 
aided by the telescope.* If any doubts have remained 
as to the accuracy of telescopic observations, they are 
now completely silenced by the science of spectrum 
analysis. There is at present no question but that the 
physical composition and exact chemical nature of the 
sun are accurately disclosed to us by the tests of the 
solar spectra under the experiments of such men as 
Bunsen and Kirchhonvf They confirm observations 
made by telescopes, and the experiments of polariza- 
tion, and fully restore the opinions of those philoso- 
phers of the middle ages who saw in the sun, not an 
inhabited world, — which, unless inhabited, would be a 
reproach to the wisdom of the Creator, — but a " globe 
of fire," a kind of " gigantic torch,'' which, together 
with the moon, was set u in the firmament of heaven, 
to give light upon the earth, and to rule over the day 
and over the night, and to divide the light from the 
darkness," expressly for the benefit of man. J 

* This is, doubtless, the most satisfactory explanation of the 
spots visible upon the sun's surface. The view that they are 
produced by the sudden fall upon the sun's surface of immense 
quantities of meteoric matter, which, by force of concussion, 
fusion, and ignition, are afterwards converted into solar-fuel, 
or that they are produced by terrific tornadoes, sweeping 
over the sun's surface, similar to those which sometimes visit 
our own tropics, are theories which can hardly be said to 
have, at the present time, the support of science. See Ap- 
pendix D. 

t Appendix E. X Gen. i. 17-19- 



THE FIELD. 45 

The planets are to us the nearest visible astronom- 
ical bodies. They have known analogies between 
themselves and the earth more striking and more nu- 
merous than have any of the bodies already examined. 
Very confident have been many writers, that human 
inhabitants occupy the planets, who differ not much, 
if in any respect, from ourselves. Others, with equal 
confidence, have pointed out certain important dif- 
ferences distinguishing the various planetary inhabit- 
ants. But those who of late have given the subject 
anything like critical attention have concluded that 
the most which has heretofore been written respecting 
planetary inhabitants is purely visionary, and so arbi- 
trary in its character as to preclude its reception as 
in the least degree reliable. Dr. Chalmers kept with- 
in the bounds of reasonable conjecture ; but certain 
others — Sir Humphry Davy, Fontenelle, Christian 
Wolf, and Andrew Jackson Davis, for illustration, 
— have allowed their enthusiasms and imaginations 
to run into all sorts of wild vagaries and extrava- 
gances. The inhabitants of the planet Saturn are rep- 
resented by Davy as effecting their locomotion by the 
agency of six wings. Their arms, he says, resemble 
the trunks of elephants ; and though in form they are 
a species of zoophyte, still they are more intelligent 
than man. 

Fontenelle likewise favors us with the peculiar 
characteristics of the different planetary inhabitants. 
Some he represents as exceedingly phlegmatic, others 
lively and agile as the most active Frenchman. Some 
are like the Moors of Granada, and still others like 
fur-clad Laplanders. 



46 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

The inhabitants of Mercury are represented by 
Huygens as pre-eminently scientific, their close prox- 
imity to the sun giving them peculiar advantages in 
astronomical investigations. Christian Wolf, the Ger- 
man astronomer, estimates that the inhabitants of Ju- 
piter are fourteen feet in height by eye measurement. 
But Proctor, by a course of reasoning equally clear, 
shows that they are but two and a half feet in height.* 
Andrew Jackson Davis stands in advance of all others 
in furnishing definite information upon this subject. 
Of course his announcements must be received as re- 
liable, (?) for he is claimed by modern medium spirit- 
ualists, as already remarked, to be the most wonderful 
clairvoyant medium of the age, and is supposed to 
have visited in person the various planets he has so 
minutely described, and to have held consultation in 
person with these our planetary kindred. 

There are, according to this distinguished oracle, two 
classes of inhabitants upon the planet Saturn. Those 
of the first and lower class are represented as very 
muscular ; their bodies are rather w T ide than otherwise, 
and not perfectly round ; they have great strength and 
elasticity of movement ; they have more extensive 
scope of mental comprehension than the inhabitants 
of earth ; and they are characterized by strong passions 
and love of mirth. On the other hand, the higher 
men of Saturn are represented as the perfection of 
physical development ; their lungs, heart, and head, 
which are fully described by Mr. Davis, are the em- 
bodiment of health and perfection ; their judgment is 

* Appendix F. - 



THE FIELD. 47 

so excellent (though we fail to see the connection) 
that they do not know what weakness or sickness 
means ; the most difficult subjects are comprehended 
by one grasp of their gigantic intellects ; they have 
telescopic eyes, which can reach through the entire 
solar system ; they dwell in immense buildings, and 
live under a general free-love system similar to that 
advocated by Mr. Theodore Tilton. 

The inhabitants of Jupiter are also, in substance, thus 
described by Mr. Davis : They are not in any respect 
fully up to the standard of those of Saturn ; through a 
constitutional modesty they assume an inclined position 
closely resembling the modern Grecian bend ; they are 
more highly intellectual and amiable than the inhabit 
ants of earth ; they are able to converse by the dexter 
ous working or winking of the upper lip ; their com- 
munities are made up of spiritual affinities, as in Sat- 
urn : in consequence, they multiply rapidly, and enjoy 
perfect health ; they never die, but their bodies are 
changed by a process of felicitous evaporation ; so 
enormous are their expansive and sweeping intellects 
that they comprehend all things and relations by a 
single concentrated thought ; they live in tents upon 
the equator, and their society is an harmonious and 
happy brotherhood of medium spiritualists. 

According to Mr. Davis, the peculiarity of the in- 
habitants of Mars is, that they have upon the tops of 
their heads no hair, resulting, it is possible, from the 
bondage in which for a long time they may have been 
held. 

The inhabitants of Venus are noted for having a 
splendid breathing and digestive apparatus, the latter 



48 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

of which is quite necessary, as they eat with perfect 
impunity their own offspring. 

The human inhabitants of Mercury are celebrated 
for their incessant activity, prodigious memories, and 
orang-outang appearance ; they have no use for their 
ears, and fight with slings and stones. They have, as 
we should expect of such barbarians, no spiritualists 
among them, but are governed by an ignorant and 
self-constituted arbitration, and their church polity is 
probably Old School Presbyterian. 

Favored as we are with so many and such definite 
accounts as to our outside kindred, it seems ungrateful 
not to accept these statements as final, especially since 
the rest of the stellar universe seems so ill suited for 
the purposes of habitation. Why not without contro- 
versy concede the point that the planets are each in- 
habited? Has not enough already been shown respect- 
ing the nebulas and fixed stars to satisfy the theological 
argument? Shall we not be lonesome and homesick 
if there be no one beyond to hail and return our sig- 
nals anon, when our sciences reach greater perfection? 
Possibly. A few additional facts, however, can injure 
no one ; facts are dangerous only to the false. 

Of the planets Uranus and Neptune, the arctic 
worlds, we say nothing, for their position places them 
beyond controversy ; they are dark and vaporous 
worlds, frozen too, unless their internal and primeval 
fires are still smouldering. 

The planet Saturn can, however, hardly be thus 
quickly passed by in silenec. It is a stupendous globe 
as compared with the earth ; its volume is nearly nine 
hundred times greater; it is less imposing in its di- 



THE FIELD. 49 

mensions than Jupiter, but more magnificent in its 
surroundings. Eight moons sail through its heav- 
ens, presenting the varying phases of waxing and 
waning in striking contrasts and combinations ; three 
rings, one nearly transparent, each having regular 
periodic revolutions, encircle this planet with their 
beautiful drapery. A lunar or solar eclipse upon 
our earth is a rare occurrence, and rivets the atten- 
tion and interest of humanity. But upon Saturn the 
phenomenon is of daily occurrence. In some of its 
latitudes there may be seen one, two, three, and even 
four solar eclipses daily. Aside from these, there is 
every conceivable variety of eclipse coming from in- 
terpositions and conjunctions of sun, moons, and rings, 
resulting in a display of astronomical wonders which 
would thrill an intelligent eye-witness with inexpres- 
sible delight. Owing to these splendid arrangements 
and adornings of Saturn, it has been selected by 
advocates of more worlds than one as the abode of 
the most favored, intelligent, and exalted species of 
human creatures. But however remorseless it may 
seem to disturb and dislodge these imaginary inhab- 
itants, modern science has presented certain facts, we 
are compelled to confess, before which past specula- 
tions vanish as the mists of morning. The density 
of this ringed world is now estimated to be no greater 
than that of the lightest cork. The sun appears to 
one upon its surface little else than a distant star. 
The rings, so beautiful to us under telescopic ob- 
servation, produce an eclipse upon some parts of 
its surface of fifteen years' duration. The various 
phenomena which this planet presents to us were 
4 



50 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

accounted for, until quite recently, upon the sup- 
position that it has a nucleus of cinders at the centre 
surrounded by a vast extent of vapors scarcely more 
ponderous than' a London fog; hence, if this is the 
correct supposition, men can no more inhabit Saturn 
than they can live in a mass of frozen mist, which the 
sun is never able to penetrate. The supposition now 
generally approved is, that Saturn consists of an unso- 
lidified mass of star-stuff in process of cooling, subject 
to internal throes so tremendous as to upheave hundreds 
of square miles of its surface far above the ordinary 
level, giving it its frequent " square-shouldered " ap- 
pearance. If this is the condition of Saturn, then, in- 
stead of frozen fog, the surrounding element is a mass 
of heated vapors and clouds which are continually ris- 
ing from the seething fires beneath. This planet, ac- 
cording to this supposition, is as uninhabitable as a 
volcano, whose fires have subsided, but are far from 
extinguished. 

The grandest exterior planet known to our system 
is Jupiter. Though at a distance which almost con- 
founds the imagination, it is, when in the meridian, 
upon a winter's midnight, one of the most magnificent 
of the heavenly bodies. Roll together into one fourteen 
hundred worlds like our own, and there would result a 
planet no larger in bulk than Jupiter. Its stupendous 
magnitude with difficulty dawns upon us even under 
telescopic observation. When Galileo directed the first 
telescope to the examination of Jupiter, he discovered 
four minute objects which he at first supposed to be 
stars, but subsequently discovered to be moons like 
our own. The one nearest Jupiter, in the brief space 



THE FIELD. 5 1 

of forty-two hours, goes through all its phases, from 
the thin, extended ring to the full and rounded circle. 
The progress of its changes is so rapid that it would 
be actually visible to a near eye-witness. The other 
satellites have longer periods, and are so arranged 
that one standing upon Jupiter would enjoy four dif- 
ferent months at the same time, being in duration four, 
eight, seventeen, and forty days respectively. One 
would scarcely need a time-piece upon this planet, for 
its wonderful celestial clock-work is provided with its 
month, day, hour, minute, and even second hand. 
Littrow * highly congratulates the astronomers of 
Jupiter, inasmuch as the sunlight is so faint that, with 
the naked eye, they can see the stars at midday. 

But there is another side to this enchanting picture. 
Littrow does not tell us whether agriculturists would 
be satisfied with the system of things found upon this 
planet ; it would seem that while the astronomer was 
laughing everybody else would be found weeping. 

Jupiter, at its greatest distance, is five hundred and 
eighteen millions of miles from the sun ; the light and 
heat are therefore four fifths less than upon the earth ; 
its days and nights will scarcely average five hours in 
length ; its reflective power, as great as that of white 
paper, which renders the star so beautiful to us, is in 
consequence of perpetual banks of clouds and vapors, 
which Madler, after careful examination, concludes 
must shut out from its surface, except from very nar- 
row limits, all light from the sun. Even did the unob- 
structed sun-light fall directly upon the surface of thjs 
planet, only four tenths of the light thus received, 

* Picture of the Heavens. 



52 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

owing to the planet's reflective power, would be avail- 
able for the purposes of economy. The former sup- 
position of science, that Jupiter is a mass of ice- 
logged waters and frozen fogs surrounding central 
cinders of matter, answered the condition of most of 
the phenomena presented ; but more recent investiga- 
tions incline to the conclusion that this giant among 
the planets is a mass of fire-fluid bubbling and seeth- 
ing, but in such condition, however, as to emit for us 
but the slightest degree of light and heat. One or the 
other of the above suppositions is unquestionably- 
true : in the one case the inhabitants of Jupiter must 
be aquatic men made up of frozen pulp ; in the other 
case they must be such men as can live in a world 
whose entire surface is covered with vortices of active 
volcanoes, and whose atmosphere is gaseous exhala- 
tions equalled only by those of some pit infernal.* 

From Jupiter we, for the present, pass by the Plan- 
etoids and Mars, the Earth, and the Moon, calling at- 
tention first to those planets which lie between us and 
the sun. 

Mercury need not long detain us, since the most 

* The eruptive action is especially observed upon Jupiter 
when it is nearest the sun ; and likewise the sun's eruptive 
action is at that time the greatest, through their mutual at- 
traction. The belts of Jupiter are, doubtless, due to the vio- 
lent discharge of vapors from regions below its visible sur- 
face. Proctor concludes that Jupiter cannot be inhabited, 
but claims that its moons are favored with inhabitants. Per- 
haps we ought not to press one who is driven to such shifts ; 
but the fact is, Jupiter's moons are as uninhabitable as would 
be our earth if scarcely a ray of illumination reached us from 
the sun. 



THE FIELD. 53 

frantic suppositions and imaginary contrivances have 
failed to render it inhabitable. A dense atmosphere 
has been proposed by some, a rare atmosphere by 
others, and a single and double envelope of clouds by 
certain others, as a means of modifying the intense 
heat of the sun's rays ; but either supposition defeats 
the object sought, and proves about equally fatal to the 
imaginary inhabitants of this planet.* In fine, its close 
proximity to the sun giving it, when nearest the sun, 
ten times the light and heat we receive ; its extreme 
density and general astronomical appearance indicat- 
ing its utter destitution of water and atmosphere ; its 
abrupt and extreme climatic changes, in consequence of 
its prodigious inclination (70 ), — are conditions which, 

* The ingenuity of some unscientific men, in these matters, 
is often very remarkable and amusing. For instance, when 
it was thought that the day of Venus was considerably longer 
than ours, it was clearly shown that such an arrangement is 
indispensable to this planet; but the day is found to be actu- 
ally a little less than ours (23 hours, 21 minutes, 24 seconds). 
Likewise elaborate articles have appeared, showing how ex- 
cellent is the arrangement of the rings and moons of Saturn 
and the moons of Jupiter, in order to give the extra and 
necessary light to these distant planets; but the fact is, 
that the multiple moon-light of Jupiter and Saturn is not a 
twentieth of that which our moon gives to the earth. Thus, 
likewise, in the case of Mercury; if the atmosphere is ex- 
tremely dense, it would render the heat by day sufficient to 
boil water at the equator; if extremely rare, it would render 
the cold by night sufficient to congeal the gases, even ; while 
an envelope of clouds sufficient to afford protection would, in 
the first place, require a dense atmosphere to support them, 
and, in the second place, would require a thickness of clouds 
such as to leave the planet in almost total darkness. 



54 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

so far as we can imagine, render both animal and 
vegetable life impossible upon its surface. 

The beautiful and conspicuous planet Venus, our 
morning and evening star, next greets us, but its re- 
ports, under scientific examination, vary not much 
from those of Mercury. The sun, as seen from its 
surface, would present magnificent but terrible phe- 
nomena. The inclination of the axis of Venus is such 
that there is poured down upon the same latitude an 
intensity of light and heat unknown at our equator in 
midsummer ; but a little later there follows a polar 
winter, whose cold is such as to defy any known 
chemical test.* No flora or fauna known to the earth 
could endure for a single season such abrupt changes. 
Nor could the denizens of the arctic and sub-arctic 
regions live through the heat of a single midsummer's 
nightless day. Modifications of atmosphere such as 
to counteract these violent changes, would involve 
changes, as in case of Mercury, so great as to kill 
while they cure. Indeed, if Venus has any atmos- 
phere, it must, owing to its extreme variations of tem- 
perature, be the home of incessant and furious tem- 
pests. The opinion is better established than any 
other, that Venus is destitute of water, and destitute 
of atmosphere, and that its surface differs not much 
from the crude slag which is cast out from glass man- 
ufactories. 

The Moon brings us comparatively near home ; it is 

* "This planet has no temperate zone. The torrid and icy 
zones encroach the one upon the other, and rule successively 
over the regions which in our world constitute the temperate 
zone." M. Babinet. 



THE FIELD. 55 

only thirty diameters of the earth distant ; we could 
reach it, travelling at ordinary railroad speed, in a 
half year. Professor Phillips, before the British Associ- 
ation, stated that spots only a few hundred feet in area 
could be easily detected. A crop of wheat removed 
from a field, or, as Herschel states, the construction or 
the devastation of a fair-sized city, would be quickly 
noticed by our astronomers. Yet never a change has 
been observed upon its surface. One of its hemi- 
spheres is forever hidden from the earth, the other is 
continually looking down upon it. Its unchangeable 
features tell us that never a cloud hangs in the lunar 
sky, while the absence of all refraction after the occul- 
tation of star-light, renders it absolutely certain that 
the moon is entirely destitute of anything that can be 
called an atmosphere. It appears to be in the same 
advanced stage, and is probably identical in substance, 
with aerolites.* Its geological history has all the in- 
terest of a romance. It was once " fire-mist," or " sun- 
stuff," " star-stuff," or " world-stuff," as variously 
named, which is probably the original created sub- 
stance, " light " — God said, Let there be light (sun- 
stuff), and light (sun-stuff) was. Later the moon wit- 
nessed activities like those now at work in the sun. It 
was at that time a world on fire, whose flames reached 
far towards the earth ; later the flames subsided, and, 
like Jupiter at the present time, the moon became a 

* Should the moon fall towards the earth, it would upon 
striking our atmosphere be ignited by friction. If consumed 
before reaching the earth's surface, it would be a shooting 
star; if it reached comparatively near us, it would be a me- 
teor; if it reached the earth's surface, it would be an aerolite. 



$6 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

bubbling mass of fire, having but slight illumination ; 
at this stage an atmosphere appeared containing mois- 
ture ; * this moisture, condensing and falling upon the 
surface, would be thrown off in the form of steam and 
vapor ; subsequently, as the cooling process went on, 
waters remained upon the surface, rivers flowed from 
the mountains and emptied themselves into the lunar 
seas. In the course of time the moisture penetrated 
deeper and deeper, the internal fires were entirely- 
quenched, the thirsty rocks drank up every drop of 
water, and then, as if insatiable, absorbed the very 
atmosphere, leaving the moon as we now find it, a 
home of desolation, an " abandoned camp," a " fossil 
world," an " ancient cinder," a mass of rough slag,! 
whose reflecting power does not much differ from that 
of a gray, weathered, sandstone rock. No atmos- 
phere ! I No water ! Beautiful in all its phases, hung 
in the heavens to preach to man of the fate now im- 
pending over the earth unless an infinite Providence 
shall cut short the days of desolation by a merciful and 
prophesied catastrophe. § 

* It is estimated that one eighth of the glowing hydrogen 
composing the flames of the sun is convertible into pure water. 

t Phillips. % Zollner, Bond, and Herschel. 

§ See 2 Pet. iii. 10-14. It is estimated at the present time, 
owing to the internal fires of the earth, that water and air are 
able to penetrate less than one fiftieth of the distance to the 
earth's centre ; therefore, long before these fires are extin- 
guished, the terrestrial water and atmosphere, like those of the 
moon, will have disappeared from the surface of a worn-out 
world. But for some providential interference the fate, not 
only of the earth, but of all celestial bodies, is written upon 
the face of the moon ; the sun itself will become a lump of 
frozen matter, darkening the heavens. 



THE FIELD. 57 

We now return to Mars, the planet which, for spe- 
cial reasons, was reserved to complete our list.* It 
has been called the miniature earth. " It is the only 
object in the heavens which is known to exhibit fea- 
tures resembling those of our earth." f Its density, 
the length of its days, its seasons and years, are not 
widely different from those of the earth. The inhab- 
itants of this planet (if it is inhabited) would have 
some advantages and some disadvantages as compared 
with the earth's inhabitants. The force of gravitation, 
being about one half what it is upon the earth, would 
enable a man weighing three or four hundred pounds 
to easily leap upwards to the height of five or six feet ; 
this, in some emergencies, would doubtless be of advan- 
tage. Another thing to be noticed is, that navigation 
through the air must be made, upon this planet, the nor- 
mal method of locomotion. One could swim through 
the atmosphere of Mars, if it has an atmosphere like 
that of the earth, as the inhabitants of the earth swim 
through the waters of the sea ; this may be, however, 
a questionable advantage. 

* Between Mars and Jupiter are twenty-three small bodies, 
called planetoids. They were formerly supposed to be parts 
of a planet thrown into fragments by some internal or exter- 
nal force ; more likely is it that they have never been a sin- 
gle planet, but assumed their present dimensions when the 
fire-mist of the solar system crystallized, if this term may be 
allowed. Some of the planetoids can boast a diameter of 
considerable extent, though in no case over a few hundred 
miles, while others are not larger than a terrestrial moun- 
tain. We need not dwell upon their physical condition, as 
no one is disposed to assign to them inhabitants. 

t Proctor. 



58 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

But the following serious discomfitures must like- 
wise be met with upon this planet. Its climate is far 
more rigorous than the earth's, its mass much less. It 
is doubtful if there is water upon it in quantities suffi- 
cient to produce a fog equal to that which, upon an 
autumn morning, hangs over a single American lake. 
The dark spots mapped out and named Phillips's Sea, 
Dawes's Ocean, and the like, are very far from being 
universally recognized as bodies of water.* 

Seidel and Zollner have arrived at the conclusion, 
after the most careful observations, that the light re-, 
fleeted from this planet comes, not, as in case of Jupi- 
ter and Saturn, from an envelope of clouds, but almost 
directly, as with the moon, from the true surface of 
the planet. Certain other scientists, who have given 
the subject not a little attention, claim that there is 
no satisfactory evidence that Mars has an atmos- 
phere of sufficient consistency to support any form 
of organized physical life. Probabilities appear to 
be assuming the character of certainty, that Mars is 
already a w r orn-out world ; its internal fires are nearly 
extinguished ; its atmosphere and water are nearly 
absorbed ; it has reached its perpetual autumn-brown 
hue, and is the home of utter desolation, like that 
which reigns upon the moon. With such facts and 
probabilities before us, is it not assumption to say that 
Mars is inhabitable? Nay more, with such facts 

* For a long time the dark spots upon the moon were 
thought to be seas. " Sea of Serenity," " Sea of Crises," and 
" Sea of Humors," were some of the names given. It is use- 
less to say the names have been dropped, and the former opin- 
ion discarded. 



THE FIELD. 59 

before us, and with the arguments from analogy and 
the consistency of things turned completely against 
the supporters of a plurality of inhabitable worlds, 
and brought to bear with all their force in support of 
the view that the earth alone is the seat of physical 
and organized life, is it not assumption, if not pre- 
sumption, to say that Mars is inhabited ? Faced by the 
facts gathered from every region of the physical uni- 
verse, met by adverse analogies on the right hand and 
on the left, and confronted by the manifest import of 
revelation, we do not see how any one can have rea- 
sonable justification for saying that Mars is an inhab- 
ited planet until, at least, balloons can be descried rising 
in its atmosphere, or until ships can be seen sailing 
across its seas, or crowds be observed gathering at its 
seats of empire, or armies be beheld marshalling their 
hostile forces in settlement of international difficulties. 
Strong and decisive probabilities thus compel us to 
conclude that there is not a plurality of inhabited 
worlds in the physical universe. We turn, therefore, 
with all the more interest, to our Earth. We can say 
of it what we are able to say of no other spot in the 
universe — it is both inhabitable and inhabited. Sci- 
entific investigation shows with a remarkable degree 
of uniformity, as we have seen, that the solar system 
is the chief and the most complete of all similar sys- 
tems, and also, that the earth is the only planet in 
the solar system known to have conditions essential 
to the existence of physical organisms ; namely, land, 
water, and atmosphere, properly proportioned — 
" ground to stand upon, air to breathe, and water ti 
nourish." The earth seems, therefore, if we mistake 



60 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

not, to be the one domesticated hearth-stone of the so- 
lar system. It holds a central position in the system 
to which it belongs ; it occupies the temperate zone 
as to the other planets ; upon the side next the sun 
are found the silence and desolation of worn-out 
worlds ; upon the side opposite are worlds for the 
most part so fresh from the forge of the Infinite as 
to be but the abode of constant volcanic throes and 
eruptions. The earth seems to be the one arena God 
has selected, upon which to have wrought out some 
of the grandest problems that will ever be submitted 
to the universe. 

The question, Why was this little earth chosen for 
such a purpose, instead of some object of vaster pro- 
portions, is quickly followed by a question equally 
pertinent: Why should it not have been chosen? It 
is as well adapted for the purpose of developing hu- 
manity and displaying the providence of God as any 
other world could be ; it is large enough for that 
purpose, and has a history of sufficient duration. It 
is an objection of no weight to say that the sphere 
is too limited for an infinite God to bestow upon it 
such special attentions. For the physical universe, 
taken as a whole, is not infinite ; * God must, there- 

* This is easily shown. For if the sidereal system were 
infinite, then the whole heavens would shine with the bril- 
liancy of starlight. This is very far from being the case. 
There are broad vacant spaces in the neighborhood of all 
nebulae. "The access to the nebulae," says Sir John Her- 
schel, " is on all sides through a desert." Each one of these 
deserts reports that the stars, in number and distance, are 
finite, 



THE FIELD. 6l 

fore bestow attention upon a part; it is for him to 
decide which that part shall be. The purposes of 
God cannot be safely estimated by rods and furlongs. 
The earth is large enough for him to display upon 
it infinite majesty, and the entire universe is to him 
a limitation. 

Equally without force is the objection that God 
would not wait until a few thousand years ago before 
creating physical life. For why should he not wait ? 
and besides this, since he is eternal, the objection lies 
with equal relevancy against any time that might have 
been selected ; it was for him, and no one else, to 
decide the moment of time at which to call animate 
or inanimate creatures into being. Creation was a 
tardy moment, in a scientific point of view, whenever 
commenced or completed. But more than this, anal- 
ogies and helps from every quarter come to our sup- 
port in settlement of these various questions. Is it 
regarded as a needless consumption of time to employ 
countless ages in fitting up this earth for human 
abodes ? Man is even yet a geological novelty in this 
world, whom no theory of development can account 
for. Myriads of years, also, and multitudes of differ- 
ent species of physical life appeared and disappeared 
long times before man came on earth to admire them. 
Was not such workmanship miscalculated and abor- 
tive ? No one answers the question but with an em- 
phatic No. Everybody feels that the divine glory and 
wisdom are not thereby brought into question. Nay, 
such delay and condescension do not dethrone the 
Infinite One. The Deity can lie concealed in a rose- 
bud without suffering dishonor. In the unsightly pool 



62 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

of muddy water he has ofttimes worked, precipitating 
therefrom the finest crystals and gems. What God 
has in store, and what he intends by present proce- 
dures, we cannot always tell ; his ways are past find- 
ing out. He is in no haste. He works a twelvemonth 
to form a flower, which, unseen by human eye, with- 
ers the day it blooms. Some plants bud but once in 
a hundred years. He is likewise lavish of his expen- 
ditures even to apparent prodigality. He never minds 
a few score more than are wanted for a purpose. A 
million seeds fall from a tree when it is the arrange- 
ment for but one to take root ; and the spawn of a 
single fish numbers two hundred millions. Of a truth, 
we are met here, there, and everywhere by assurances 
that it is in strict harmony with God's way to seem to 
waste his energies by hanging out this handsome " jew- 
elry of the stars " innumerable, yet reserving but one of 
all the number for habitation. If it is ordered that the 
remaining part of the physical universe shall be but 
the leaves, the stems, the stocks of the one " fertile flow- 
er," or if it is planned that the earth shall be the one 
physical " sanctuary of the universe," " the Holy Land 
of Creation," the scene of God's special manifestation, 
the one, among a million others, around which the 
most vital interests are suspended, and connected with 
which the grandest issues are awaited ; or if it is ar- 
ranged that earthly humanity shall be the unique and 
peculiar child of the physical universe, and that the 
central point of the earth's history and of universal 
history, shall be, and is, the coming and life of man's 
elder brother, who lived in Nazareth ; in fine, if the 
scientific and the physical centres of the universe shall 



THE FIELD. 63 

be found to coincide with the theological centre as 
revealed in the Holy Scriptures, — even then no form 
of science need take the alarm, for such has been the 
way of the Infinite from the beginning. 

The sublime truths of revealed religion, in view of 
these considerations, seem to find new expression, and 
come home to us with a wealth of suggestion hereto- 
fore unknown. The fundamental principles of Chris- 
tianity hereby clear themselves from troublesome 
obscurities. We can the better understand why rev- 
elation places such high distinctions upon humanity, 
and why the entire gulfs of stars seem to pale almost 
into obscurity before one of the little ones whom our 
Saviour blessed : those children were not made for 
the stars, but the stars for them ; and when every glis- 
tening sun shall fall from its place in the sky, the 
feeblest child shall continue to shine forth, and will 
shine forever and ever in the kingdom of heaven. 

We see also why the Deity is so lavish of astro- 
nomical wonders in man's behalf; nothing short of 
stars enough to call out human thought and investiga- 
tion until time ends, would be enough ; it is as if God 
had said, " Anything I can do for man shall be done ; 
give him extent of worlds to last him his lifetime, and 
sufficient to tax his skill and invention to the utmost." 
What if God has made the stars in number such that 
they appear as " silver sand" and ''diamond dust;" 
he who has given us his Son, shall he not with him 
freely give us all things? 

It is clear, also, why the present period, throughout 
the material universe is, so far as the nature of the 
case allows, the era of rest. It is God's Sabbath time. 



6\ THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

The changes known to be taking place are not new 
creations ; all things are pointing to decay and death. 
The workshop of the Almighty, his forge and pro- 
ductions, are cooling off; no sounds of the bellows or 
anvil are heard. It is as if, six thousand years ago, 
when humanity was brought forth, the Creator had 
commanded the intelligent universe to pause, and do 
nought else save to watch human development, and 
take note of the princes and kings as they shall prove 
themselves worthy of sceptres and thrones. 

The consistency of things requires, also, that other 
changes respecting the arena of human development 
shall one day be wrought out. When man's earthly 
life terminates, the physical universe will have no fur- 
ther end to subserve ; it shall be dissolved ; * and then 
will have come the last epoch of the physical universe, 
and the story of its history and existence will have been 
told.f But in this dissolution are involved changes 

* 2 Pet. iii. 10-13. 

t The history of the physical universe can now be read 
with an accuracy scarcely less than that with which the geo- 
logical history of the earth is examined. In general, " stellar 
geology." as the science is called, divides the history of the 
natural universe into the following periods : — 

I. The Epoch of Light. Some part of the divine energy 
was at this period converted into perfect physical lumination, 
which was homogeneous, but which contained, perhaps, the 
elements or basis of the material part of the physical universe. 

II. The Epoch of Mineral Mist. The mass of lumination 
passed into a degree of heterogeneousness ; the solid light 
became points of light. 

III. The Epoch of Condensation. The mineral mist, at 
this stage, became luminous liquid, with manifest tenden- 



THE FIELD. 65 

such as befit human destiny; universal decay *and cor- 
ruption are to put on incorruption ; the earthy is to 
become heavenly, and the natural is to become spirit- 
ual.* Science has no word to speak against these 
changes. It is now shown that planets and suns, if 
suddenly arrested, would be converted into terrific con- 
flagrations. Everything is now proved to be converti- 
ble into any or everything else. Heat and motion are 
interchangeable quantities. Diamonds and charcoal 
are equivalents. " Flowers are but earth vivified." f 

cies towards assuming spherical forms, together with spiral 
motions. 

IV. The Solar Epoch. The liquid mass became of such con- 
sistency as to shape itself into globes of solid fire, surrounded 
by a blazing photosphere ; the largest body in a given system 
becoming the centre of an organized system of worlds. 

V. The Planetary Epoch. This may be subdivided into 
three stages. (1.) The preparatory stage. The luminous 
fires were extinguished ; periodic revolution was established ; 
crusts formed ; waters fell as now upon Jupiter, and later as 
during the earth's period of rain ; and geological history was 
brought on towards completion. (2.) The stage of culmina- 
tion. This stage presents all the phases of physical geogra- 
phy, as now displayed upon the earth. (3.) The stage of 
desolation. The internal fires are completely or nearly ex- 
tinguished ; the waters and atmosphere are absorbed, and 
the period of utter darkness and universal refrigeration is 
ushered in. 

VI. We add upon Bible authority the Epoch of Spiritualiza- 
tion. The physical universe will be arrested in its motion by 
the hand that first gave it movement; instantly every orb 
will be again in flames; all things will be changed in a mo- 
ment, and in the twinkling of an eye ; and the physical uni- 
verse will be succeeded by the spiritual. 

* 1 Cor. xv. 46, 49, $3. t Lamartine. 

5 



66 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

" And I saw a new heaven and a new earth : for 
the first heaven and the first earth were passed away ; 
and there was no more sea. And I John saw the 
holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down from God out 
of heaven, prepared as a bride adorned for her hus- 
band. And I heard a great voice out of heaven, 
saying, Behold, the tabernacle of God is with men, 
and he will dwell with them, and they shall be his 
people, and God himself shall be with them, and be 
their God. And God shall wipe away all tears from 
their eyes ; and there shall be no more death, neither 
sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more 
pain ; for the former things are passed away." * 

* Rev. xxi. 1-4. 



THE DEFEAT. 



His eye no more looked onward, but its gaze 

Rests where remorse a life misspent surveys. 

By the dark shape of what he is, serene 

Stands the bright ghost of what he might have been ; 

Here the vast loss, and there the worthless gain, — 

Vice scorned, yet wooed, and Virtue loved in vain. 

Bulwer. 

What more, O Avarice, canst thou do to us, 
Since thou my blood so to thyself hast drawn, 
It careth not for its own proper flesh ? Dante. 

" Little sins are pioneers of hell." 

The sea of this world hides so many rocks that a vessel 
whose rudder is not in the hand of Wisdom must of necessity 
soon suffer shipwreck. Hengstenberg. 

The great art of life is to play for much and stake but little. 

Johnson. 

Sin is a sweet poison ; it tickleth while it stabbeth. The 
first thing that sin doth is to bewitch, then to put out the 
eyes, then to take away the sense and feeling; to do to a man 
as Lot's daughters did to him, make him drunk, and then he 
doth he knoweth not what. As Joab came with a kind salute 
to Abner and thrust him under the fifth rib, while Abner 
thought of nothing but kindness, so sin comes smiling, comes 
pleasing and humoring thee, while it giveth thee a deadly 
stab. Anthony Burgess. 

No man can be stark nought at once. Let us stop the 
progress of sin in our soul at the first stage, for the farther it 
goes the faster it will increase. Fuller. 

As sins proceed they ever multiply, and like figures in 
arithmetic, the last stands for more than all that went before 
it. Sir Thomas Browne. 

6 9 



My lord cardinal [Cardinal Richelieu], there is one fact 
which you seem to have entirely forgotten. God is a sure 
paymaster. He may not pay at the end of the week, month, 
or year; but I charge you remember that he pays in the end. 

Anne of Austria. 

Nothing is more common than for great thieves to ride in 
triumph where small ones are punished. But let wickedness 
escape as it may, at the last it never fails of doing itself jus- 
tice; for every guilty person is his own hangman. Seneca. 

In general, treachery, though at first sufficiently cautious, 
yet in the end betrays itself. Livy. 

Extreme avarice almost always makes mistakes. There is 
no passion that oftener misses its aim, nor on which the 
present has so much influence in prejudice of the future. 

Rochefoucauld. 

Use sin as it will use you ; spare it not, for it will not spare 
you ; it is your murderer and the murderer of the whole world. 
Use it, therefore, as a murderer should be used; kill it before 
it kills you; and though it bring you to the grave, as it did 
your head, it shall not be able to keep you there. You love 
not death ; love not the cause of death. Baxter. 

Suicide is a crime most revolting to the feelings ; nor does 
any reason suggest itself to our understanding by which it 
can be justified. Napoleon. 

70 



THE DEFEAT. 



EVERY man's life ends in defeat or triumph. 
Those who suffer final defeat may have gained, 
meantime, some single and signal victories ; while 
those who achieve a final triumph may have met, 
early in the contest, many a rough defeat. 

Illustrative of each of these classes we take two 
characters, familiar to all readers of the Sacred Scrip- 
tures, both of which are as apt examples for our pur- 
pose as any others therein recorded. 

Judas, the apostate, is a name, as it seems to us, 
synonymous with the word defeat. Little is known 
of his early life ; so little, indeed, that nothing can be 
said. This is true of almost every biblical character. 
We find the various contestants in Scripture history 
struggling in their vigorous manhood ; in that struggle, 
and not in their birth, or their youth, is involved their 
final defeat or triumph, though birth and youth may 
have had much to do therewith.* 

* Legend tells us that Judas was a foredoomed wretch, 
whose mother received a warning of what he would be, in a 
dream, before his birth. To avoid this, his parents enclosed 
him in a chest, and plunged him into the sea. The sea cast 

71 



72 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

After the mere mention of the name of Judas, and 
his call to the apostleship, he comes first into notice at 
a festival in Bethany, at the house of Simon the leper. 
The circumstances attending this gathering are of 
interest. It was the evening of the day on which our 
Lord had arrived in that village from a season of re- 
tirement in the country near Ephraim. The inhab- 
itants of Bethany were filled with delight, " and," 
says the sacred record, " there they made him a sup- 
per." It was similar to the complimentary entertain- 
ments of modern times given in honor of distinguished 
guests. This effort on, the part of these humble people 
was an expression of hearts beating with love and ado- 
ration for a friend who was more than brother. 

Of those present some are specially worthy of men- 
tion. He, for instance, who was master of the house, 
Simon, bearing the surname " Leper." He had once 
been afflicted with that terrible disease, which no phy- 
sician could heal. He had been obliged to utter the 
mournful cry, " Unclean, unclean ! " as a warning to 

him upon the shore in the domain of a king and queen, who 
adopted him as their own son. Malignant from his birth, he 
killed a foster-brother, and fled to Judea, and became a page to 
Pontius Pilate. He committed many monstrous crimes, was 
at length filled with contrition and terror, and fled to Christ 
for peace. Thenceforward the account agrees with the New 
Testament narrative. After the betrayal, despair came and 
offered him choice of weapons of destruction, and he chose 
the rope and hung himself. At his death his evil genius seized 
the broken rope, and dragged him down to the seething 
abyss below. At his approach hell sent forth a shout of joy. 
Lucifer smoothed his pain-racked brow, and from his burn- 
ing throne welcomed a greater sinner than himself. 



THE DEFEAT. 73 

those who approached him. But upon the night in 
question he was a well man. The ugly spots had 
gone, and his skin was like that of a child. A monu- 
ment was he and a glad witness for Him who had 
pronounced the almighty words, " Be clean" 

There was another person in the guest chamber 
especially deserving mention. He was a young man 
who, a few months before this, had been enshrouded 
and borne to the tomb, surrounded by his weeping sis- 
ters and a sympathizing community. No citizen of 
Bethany doubted his death and burial. But in obedi- 
ence to a single command from his divine Friend, he 
came forth from the tomb ; the aspect of death had 
disappeared ; the breeze from the hill-side blew off 
the smell of the grave ; and he returned with his 
friends, and helped remove from his home the sym- 
bols and emblems of his own funeral. And with all 
these things Judas was perfectly familiar. 

The presence of Mary, the sister of Lazarus, at this 
entertainment, cannot be overlooked, for she played 
no unimportant part* Entering the chamber during 
the festivities, she quietly approached the one in 
whose honor the feast was spread. Gratitude, vener- 
ation, and love were in her heart. At a moment w 7 hen 
least observed, the devoted woman broke the seal of a 
well-closed alabaster box of pure oil of spikenard, 
very costly ; with lavish hand she poured the whole 
of it upon the head of Jesus, and upon his feet, and 
then knelt and wiped his feet with her loosened 
tresses. The house was filled with fragrance. This 

* Matt. xxvi. 6-9. Mark xiv. 3-5. John xii. 2-4. 



74 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

tribute was more suggestive than Mary knew. It 
appears upon the surface to be an act of gratitude 
done by a simple-hearted, loving woman, to one who 
had pardoned her sins, told her of heaven, and raised 
to life her dead brother ; but it was more than that. 
It was also a prophetic tribute ; it was a memorial, 
which, wherever the gospel is preached, shall be told 
of her. In all the remotest regions of the world, and 
in the latest ages of time, this shall be told, that 
Jesus died " in the fragrant odors of this dear wo- 
man's love." 

But one there was in that company who did not 
enjoy the fragrance of spikenard. There are such, — 
those, we mean, who enjoy nothing unless inaugurat- 
ed by themselves, or unless it contributes directly to 
their desires or purposes. With such very little in 
this world is exactly right ; no morning is without its 
cloud, and the most finished picture is a daub, and 
the whitest marble has its flaws. How little such 
men suspect that the flaw is in their own souls ! How 
much like the waves of the troubled sea do hearts like 
that of Judas cast up mire and dirt ! 

This dissatisfied and restless man quickly, but qui- 
etly and artfully, circulated among his fellow-disciples 
the pfausible inquiry, u Why was not this ointment 
sold for three hundred pence, and given to the poor? * 

By his remarkable power of eloquence, his profound 
respect for religion, his reverence for the teachings of 
the Master, his sober conversation, together with his 
plausible address, his unbounded sympathy and benev- 

* John xii. 5. 



THE DEFEAT. 75 

olent appeal, Judas inaugurated disaffection, and com- 
pletely misled the body of the disciples. For the 
moment they were fastened in the same snare that 
held him, and we hear them also inquiring, " To 
what purpose is this waste? for this ointment might 
have been sold for much, and given to the poor." 
" And they murmured against her." * How success- 
fully had this festal scene been converted into an hour 
of temptation, and the pure offering of a loving heart 
into an offence ! 

But Jesus was moved by this act of the woman. 
Of himself and the dishonor done him personally by 
these murmurings he said nothing ; it grieved him to 
the quick, nevertheless, that the woman had been so 
badly and unkindly used ; like a faithful advocate he 
appeared at once in her defence. " Trouble her not," 
he said, " for this" (following the original) "is a 
beautiful work which she hath wrought." f 

Such were the gentle words which silenced the 

* Matt xxvi. 8, 9. Mark xiv. 6, 9. 

t Matt. xxvi. 10-13. Mark xiv. 6-9. John xii. 7, 8. Alford 
makes an excellent observation upon this prophecy of Christ. 
" We cannot but be struck with the majesty of this prophetic 
announcement, introduced with the peculiar and weighty 
aiu.v ?Jyoj vfavf conveying, by implication, the whole mystery 
of the Evayyi?uov which should go forth from his death, as 
its source, looking forward to the end of time, when it shall 
have been preached in the whole world, and specifying 
the fact that this deed should be recorded wherever it is 
preached." He sees in this announcement a distinct prophet- 
ic recognition of the existence of written gospel records, by 
means of which alone the deed related could be universally 
proclaimed. 



*]6 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

murmurings of the disciples, or changed them into 
praise and compliment, and fully restored confidence 
to the distressed woman's heart. But he who had oc- 
casioned this disturbance was exasperated ; he felt, 
without the least occasion for it, that a personal wrong 
had been done him ; in consequence, he began at once 
to dally with thoughts of treachery, and took the pre- 
liminary steps in the ways of treason. 

He was likewise much provoked because he had 
not so well succeeded as he had planned. Something, 
of course, is wrong upon the face of his transactions. 
His conduct and words were the expression of benev- 
olence, but his heart appears to be the home of self- 
ishness. The inspired writer leaves us not long in 
doubt, but explores and explodes, in a word, this pre- 
tended piety and professed regard for the poor, and 
gives us a clew by which henceforth we may follow 
this sower of dissensions : " This he said, not that he 
cared for the poor, but because he was a thief, and 
had the bag, and bare what was put therein." * This 
man had been preaching up benevolence, it thus 
appears, with the hidden intention of making some- 
thing handsome out of it for himself. Of such perfidy 
was his heart fully capable. This apostle was simply 
a hypocrite. He had shown talent, he had exerted a 
controlling influence, but it is ordained from the be- 
ginning that a hypocrite cannot long triumph in his 
hypocrisy. As Judas withdrew we discover that de- 
feat already has been written upon his leading pur- 
pose. Iniquity gains much, but rarely the thing 
wanted, and never the thing best. 

* John xii. 6. 



THE DEFEAT. 77 

Now fairly introduced to Judas, we may follow him 
a step farther. Jerusalem is west of Bethany a dis- 
tance of a trifle less than two miles, the Mount of 
Olives standing between. Thither Judas, as he left 
the feast chamber, directed his steps. As he reached 
the summit of the Mount of Olives, the scene under 
the clear sky and full moon of that evening must have 
been enchanting. At the foot of the mount, looking 
westward, was the valley of Jehoshaphat ; beyond was 
Jerusalem ; to the south of the city lay the valley of 
Hinnom, which, extending east and west, united with 
the valley of Jehoshaphat at a point south-east of the 
city. The bluffs on either side these valleys, at their 
junction, are from twenty-five to forty feet in height. 
In the time of our Saviour they were in excellent state 
of cultivation, and richly clothed with vineyards and 
olive trees. On the left, passing up Hinnom, was the 
Hill of Evil Counsel, on which was the Potters' Field, 
afterwards purchased with the thirty bloody pieces of 
silver. Opposite this, towards the city, in full view 
from the position we now occupy on the summit of 
the Mount of Olives, was a spot of land which was 
replete with interest to Judas ; he owned it. He 
paused to look upon it a moment before descending to 
the city. He might have reasoned thus : That is 
mine. What if Christ and his other followers go to 
wreck and ruin ; I am safe. Let them waste the oint- 
ment if they like ; that spot of land will support me. 

Indeed, that was a choice lot, one of the best in the 
environs of the entire city. It commanded a view T of 
both these important valleys referred to ; it looked 
upon Mount Zion, the Mount of Olives, and two other 



78 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

important elevations, since known as the Mounts of 
Offence and Evil Counsel ; it was at that time plenti- 
fully irrigated by water drawn from the Pool of Sil- 
oam. Yes, Judas was a sharp, shrewd man, and a 
sharp, shrewd buyer. No one could overreach him, 
and no good bargain in Jerusalem would escape his 
notice. He was a provident man, as the world would 
say ; in case of a failure on the part of Christ and his 
mission, Judas had taken the precaution to make these 
suitable provisions for himself and family.* 

And notice, that these ample provisions* had been 
made even though the conditions of discipleship re- 
quired that all things should be given up, — real 
estate with personal property, — and the whole turned 
over into the common treasury. It had proved peril- 
ous in one instance, at least, not to do this much.f 
But Judas had done much worse; he was not only a 
deceiver and a hypocrite, but a defaulter ; he was a 
thief; nay, the worst kind of a thief. The gifts of 
friends, in some instances the gifts of poor people, 
given to Jesus by way of expressing their love, in- 
trusted to Judas, the treasurer of the company, — even 
these he had purloined from the bag, and with this 
doubly consecrated money had purchased this splendid 
suburban estate, to which he could retire when the 
mission of Jesus was- accomplished. J But all this 

* The psalm supposed to be written descriptive of the be- 
trayer mentions the fact of both wife and children. — Psalm 
cix. Acts i. 20. 

t Acts v. 1-12. 

J ki Now this man purchased a field with the reward of ini- 
quity." Acts i. 18. This was purchased, not with the money 



THE DEFEAT. 79 

could not have been so successfully accomplished 
unless Judas had been far above the average of men. 
No one could have managed his affairs as these were 
managed, have covered up his steps with such skil- 
ful tact, and have escaped the suspicion .of every one 
of his companions, even to the last, of being any- 
thing other than a man of superior devotion and un- 
questioned integrity, unless by the aid of positive 
intellectual ability. It always takes about twice the 
amount of brains to gain an end dishonestly that it 
does to gain it honestly. 

Judas was also perfectly self-confident, yet with a 
show of modesty. He was smart ; he knew it. He 
had his abilities under perfect self-control, and always, 
somehow, skilfully managed them in his own personal 
interest. 

By universal consent the money was intrusted en- 
tirely to his care and disposal ; his accounts were, 
perhaps, never questioned or audited. His hand was 
always upon the sails when they needed reefing. His 
ability would have been acknowledged and his influ- 
ence instantly felt in any position. Public responsi- 
bility, from which others shrank, he would have easily 
borne. His occasional pilfering and thieving tended 
to make him more and more subtle, shrewd, artful, and 
cautious. He never allowed himself to be pent up or 

which was thrown at the feet of the priests in the temple ; 
that went to buy the Potters' Field, on the Mount of Evil 
Counsel (Matt, xxvii. 6-10) ; but this field opposite was the 
purchase of money stolen. We can now see why, at the sup- 
per in Bethany, this man had pleaded so zealously for the 
poor. 



80 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

hemmed into close quarters, such that his genius could 
find no way out. No one plays the Judas adroitly and 
to the purpose unless he is a man of much mind. 
Common men become petty villains ; real talent will 
not stoop to steal old junk or clothes-pins ; it strikes 
rather for the most that can be reached. 

Does it not sometimes appear that those men and 
women of any community who are serving the tables 
of worldly pleasure with the greatest devotion are 
more talented than those w T ho are in the service of the 
church ? This is not always the case ; but frequently 
does it not so appear? The smartest men everywhere 
are the meanest. Had the talents of some of the lewd- 
est women been consecrated to God, they would, by 
universal consent, have occupied the first ranks in 
society. 

But it is well to note that bad men, who are very 
smart, are very far from smart in one thing — this, 
that they do not see that it is exceedingly foolish and 
short-sighted to do wrong instead of right. The cheat 
smiles that he has cheated another, not thinking how 
fearfully he has cheated himself. How cheaply most 
such sell themselves ! " Smart, but foolish," is an 
epitaph suitable for more gravestones than one. 

Notice another thing. Judas was never rash, like the 
other disciples, but always cool and self-collected. He 
wore, perhaps, no better clothes than did his compan- 
ions, but was, we suspect, always in better trim. He 
was one of those slick, smooth men, who ever have 
for you a smile ; but it is well not to take too much 
stock in some men's smiles ; a man's face is part of 
his stock in trade. The affability of Judas afforded a 



THE DEFEAT. Si 

cloak of completest protection. The wolf could be 
detected by no ordinary observation. He was so 
agreeable and apparently disinterested, that half the 
world, for want of better discernment, would have 
thought him the politest of gentlemen. He knew in 
all company how best to deport himself. His want of 
gallantry was completely veiled under a hypocritical 
display of manners. Politeness is genuine kindness of 
heart; of this Judas was utterly destitute. He was as 
ungentlemanly as he was base. He could cast, with- 
out hesitation, a burden of disquietude and confusion 
upon the spirit of that devoted woman who honored 
Christ with her costly sacrifice. Was that politeness? 
What cared he for Mary's heart? It was only a few 
ounces of flesh. If he had broken it or crushed it to' 
atoms, while clutching for the three hundred pence, 
it would not have troubled him. Such affable men, 
wherever met, are not gentlemen. When the poor 
woman and the shop-worn girl cry out that their 
hearts and lives are crushed between the pavement 
and the feet of that man who in many a circle passes 
for a gentleman, nothing more need be said ; God's 
judgment cannot give a more inevitable lie to all such 
false pretensions. One who abuses another is not a 
gentleman ; one who lives on other folks' money, or 
lives extravagantly, if he does not pay his debts, is not 
a gentleman ; nay, one who in any way appropriates 
to his own use what belongs to another is not a gen- 
tleman ; he is a reckless-man. 

We parted company with Judas upon the Mount of 
Olives, where he was congratulating himself upon his 
successful transactions. Under his eye was that mag- 
6 



82 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

nificent plot of ground ; let us look well to that plot 
of ground, for we shall have sad and special occasion 
to revisit it anon. 

It must have been quite late, perhaps near midnight, 
when Judas reached the outer gate, upon the eastern 
side of the city. Making known his mission to the 
guard, he was at once admitted, and accompanied to 
the temple. At that hour silence reigned in all its 
outer courts. The cloisters and halls which, during 
the day, were thronged with worshippers, were now 
deserted and empty. The night wind swept through 
those cloistered aisles, meeting nought unusual save 
this one restless and sleepless adventurer. The watch- 
stars from above seemed to look down upon this soli- 
dary visitant with strange inquiries. The moon was in 
her full, and the sky was cloudless. 4 How sublimely 
grand must the temple have then appeared to this dis- 
ciple of Jesus ! The great blocks of fine white marble 
were joined together with such perfect skill that no 
seam could be traced. The building had the appear- 
ance of having been cut into its present shape out of 
one solid block of marble. In the distance, on ap- 
proaching the city, it resembled a mountain of snow. 
How imposing the sight to this one, who for three years 
had dwelt with Him who was more homeless than the 
bird of the air and the fox of the hill-side. 

Over the porch of the court of the priests, encircling 
the pillars, was a vine made of solid gold, hung with 
golden grapes, whose clusters were of the size of a 
man. Heavy plates of gold covered this entrance to 
the temple, reflecting the moonlight, and making 
every object visible. Look now upon this defaulter 



THE DEFEAT. 83 

and intentional betrayer, as he passed through those 
empty but majestic temple courts ; he entered at the 
gate called, Beautiful ; he had often entered it be- 
fore ; he proceeded onward through the Court of 
the Gentiles, and up the nineteen steps to the Court 
of the Israelites, where he asked audience of the 
priests then on duty. They proffered him immediate 
hearing, and he was requested to make known his 
mission. He broke the silence with the question, 
" What will ye give me, and I will deliver him unto 
you ? " Ah, that was a fatal question. It was a rough, 
heartless, slave-vender's question. This man huck- 
sters for a price upon the head of the priceless. He 
barters for blood. " And when they heard it," says 
Mark, " they were glad." Glad ! What a beautiful 
word ! How it wells up from childhood ! Soiled 
henceforth is that word. 

What had troubled these men was this : they feared 
the common people. They could not arrest Christ 
except in their absence. They therefore needed for 
a guide one who was well acquainted with all the 
private resorts of our Saviour ; here was their man. 
How providential? An uproar among the people can 
now be prevented. They deliberated, gave explana- 
tions, and offered thirty pieces of silver. 

Doubtless for such signal service Judas had expect- 
ed a much larger sum. But they made it clear to 
him why they could not consistently give more than 
the price stipulated. They did not wish to recognize 
in Christ anything but the meanest specimen of hu- 
manity. The current price of a common slave was 
thirty pieces of silver.* Judas saw the force of their 

* About fifteen dollars* 



84 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

reasoning. He was helped likewise to see the force 
of other things. He felt, doubtless, that all hope of 
promotion, should he remain with the company of the 
disciples, was at an end. His Master would neither 
employ the enthusiasm of the people nor his miracu- 
lous powers to secure temporal position. Why follow 
him longer? * 

Judas also remembered the slight he had received ; 
and his peculiar estimate of such a slight would not 
allow him to brook it. He felt, for the moment, as he 
ascended those temple steps, that he was not the man 
to receive a personal rebuff from that Nazarene, whom 
the devil made him now look upon, not as the Messiah, 
but as only a Rabbi. 

In addition to this, the scene at Bethany presented 
to his mind only a wasteful company, in which all 
things were going to dissolution. Those former dreams 

* The heart of Judas had probably been not exactly right 
from the beginning, and his talents were consequently use- 
less for any great purpose. It is only sanctified talent that 
is better than no talent. The less a wicked man knows, the 
better. The appearance of Christ, the glory of his marvel- 
lous deeds, and the expectation of universal dominion subject 
to his control, had attracted this man from Kerioth. He 
made an accurate estimate of those things, "l^e swore fealty 
to the banner, but not to the humiliation, of Christ." Judas 
may not at first have been consciously a hypocrite. He very 
likely for a time played the part of a disciple with a com- 
mendable degree of outward and inward truthfulness. He 
probably did not at first pretend much more than did others. 
He, with others, followed Jesus politically, and with no deeper 
or higher motives than a longing for the realization of those 
earthly and enchanting ideas which his lively imagination 
had depicted to him. 



THE DEFEAT. 85 

of his had been dashed to the ground. Now, here, 
in the temple, was the place and the opportunity for 
restoring what seemed lost. With these rulers, with 
whom he was holding this midnight interview, was 
authority, which his Master seemed not to have ; 
wealth and power were there, but belonged not to 
his Master. He thought, too, that his Master was ter- 
ribly extravagant. To a man constituted like Judas 
he did ofttimes seem thus. It was not at the Bethany 
supper alone that the avarice of Judas had discovered 
what seemed to be, on the part of our Saviour, a 
needless and careless expenditure of property, but 
elsewhere he had seen the same thing without under- 
standing its purport. He saw property wasted as if it 
had cost nothing, and since it was being squandered 
so carelessly, why could he not take his share? 

Besides all this, he had estimated his own talents. 
He had reckoned that as he was of more service to 
the Master than the rest of his followers, he was con- 
sequently entitled to extra compensation. No burden 
was so great and important as his. Why should he not 
receive somewhat extra therefor? and by making these 
appropriations quietly, instead of publicly, he could pre- 
vent, on the part of his fellow-disciples, all complaint. 
There was policy in his method, and also justice, as 
he thought. Three years had been wasted. Three 
years were of value to him. If, then, his hopes of pro- 
motion were gone, might he not still remain and 
pocket what he could ? By taking only half the re- 
ceipts he would save to the Master more than any one 
else. Might he not turn his own receipts to as good 
use as anyone else? Thus, in a hundred and one 



86 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

ways, Judas had been quieting his conscience and 
excusing himself, until he could frame an excuse for 
the most daring impiety. So can any man. But the 
old adage tells us a plain truth. He that excuses 
himself in any act is at the same moment his own 
accuser. 

Self-excusing and the grand scenes surrounding 
Judas had thus accomplished their work. He was 
mentally intoxicated ; rather exhilarated. How insig- 
nificant the festal chamber in Bethany, in comparison 
with what then blinded his eye and tempted his heart ! 
There, in that temple and with those priests, were 
wealth and power. Those temple officials guarded 
immense treasures ; thousands were nothing to them, 
while small amounts of money for present needs, the 
gifts of charity, which could be carried from place to 
place in a bag, constituted his Master's possessions. 
If not now, the time may come, he reasoned, when 
these men and their wealth will be of service ; I shall 
be their guest in all the future ; * my standing as a 
citizen depends upon breaking from Jesus, and form- 
ing a confederacy with these rulers. His silence in 
view of their proposition became oppressive. Each 
minute's delay seemed an hour. Why delay? Yes, 
Judas, why delay? Take the thirty pieces; they will 
be all you can receive, and all the priests will give; 
for these are the words of the old prophet : "So they 
weighed for my price thirty pieces of silver." | 

* In this Judas must take his chances; they are, under like 
circumstances, more often adverse than otherwise. Hail fel- 
lows are not always well met. 

f Zech. xi. 12. In view of what has now been said, the 



THE DEFEAT. 87 

With these terms the bargain was closed, and Jesus 
was sold for exactly one third the price of the oint- 
ment, by the very man who grumbled against the 
woman who had poured it as an anointing upon the 
devoted head of our Saviour ; whilst if Judas could 
have sold that offering of devotion, he would have 
stolen its price, have added it to his other thefts, and 
then have absconded with the whole. 

The next scene to which the inspired writers intro- 
duce us is in a guest-chamber in the city of Jerusalem. 
The time was the evening of the first day of unleav- 
ened bread ; consequently four days have intervened 
since we left the festal scene in Bethany. How that 
time was passed by Judas we are not informed. Upon 
this evening the Bethany friends of our Lord did not 
appear. Martha was not needed to serve the Master, 
nor Mary to anoint him, nor Lazarus and Simon to 
witness for him ; these services had been already well 
performed. None but his disciples were present. We 
first look in upon a supper which preceded the institu- 
tion of the Lord's Supper ; no chair was at that time 
vacant ; no face was especially downcast ; from pres- 
ent appearances one would suspect no lurking wrong. 
But a man was there who- had already bargained to 
sell his Master for the price of a slave. 

point raised by Story, that the bribe was too small to move 

Judas, seems answered. It is stated thus : — 

"Does not the bribe seem all too small and mean? 
He held the common purse, and, were he thief, 
Had daily power to steal, and lay aside 
A secret and accumulating fund ; 
So doing, he had nothing risked of fame, 
While here he braved the scorn of all the world." 



88 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

How Judas could have braved it sufficiently to 
come, after that transaction in the temple, sit down 
with his Master, and eat the paschal supper, as if noth- 
ing were in his heart but good intentions and wishes, 
is almost beyond conjecture. But he was a man of 
consummate coolness.* 

Pictures representing the " Lord's Supper " present 
twelve disciples with their Master. One sitting near 
our Lord is represented of dark complexion, having a 
morose expression, mingled with sata.nic hate and re- 
venge. These representations involve two important 
mistakes. First, there were but eleven disciples at 
the Lord's Supper. This feast of which we are 
now speaking was a preliminary entertainment, — the 
paschal supper, at which Judas was present ; he retired 
before the institution of the Lord's Supper. Second, 
he wore, on that occasion, anything but a malignant 
face. We doubt if he was of dark complexion. No 
one smiled more frequently, conversed more freely, 
appeared easier in his movements, or occasioned less 
suspicion among his fellows. 

' As treasurer of the company, and on account of his 
commanding influence, Judas took a position next the 
Master, a privilege that none disputed. With a trifling 

* We say, without entering into any lengthy discussion* 
that the presence of Judas at this supper table, after the 
transaction with the priests in the temple, betokens as heart- 
less perfidy, as diabolical hypocrisy and treachery as can be 
found on record ; and those who have attempted to palliate 
the guilt of Judas — De Quincey and Archbishop Whately, 
for illustration — have in nothing else been more unsuccess- 
ful. See also Appendix G. 



THE DEFEAT. 89 

difference growing out of the question among certain 
others, in which Judas was in no wise engaged, as to 
" who shall be the greatest," which was easily si- 
lenced by our Saviour, the scene, at first, was one of 
appare7it joy and happiness. But a cloud rested, 
during this interview, upon the mind of our Saviour. 
He knew the whole ; the past and the future were fully 
disclosed to his eye, as were, likewise, all the hearts 
in that company ; and he knew, among other things, 
that there was one of that number who was, and had 
been, at heart a devil. 

Pertinent, perhaps, is the question, at this point, Who 
made Judas to differ from his fellow-disciples ? There 
can be but one reply. God makes men intellectually 
and circumstantially different, but the use each one 
makes of his talents and surroundings involves in 
every case personal responsibility. God gave Judas 
superior abilities, but, contrary to his deeper convic- 
tions of right and duty, he prostituted them. Clearly, 
then, he was responsible. His natural ability was 
such as to raise him very high or sink him very low. 
The antithesis of character is left, ultimately, to per- 
sonal choice. There had been offered to each disciple 
the same gospel ; each had felt the Spirit's influence ; 
each had possessed the same gracious opportunities ; 
the world, the flesh, and the devil had addressed the 
heart of each ; each, in fine, had been subjected to 
peculiar temptations and peculiar allurements. But 
the other disciples had chosen Christ, and commenced 
their ascent to heaven ; this reprobate had chosen the 
world, and had descended, and was continuing to de- 
scend to the kingdom of Satan. 



go THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

What is true in these instances is true of all others. 
All men are responsible parties in every transaction. 
No one can shift his responsibility upon any one else. 
There is no man, however low he has fallen, but 
knows, whatever his case may be to-day, that the time 
has been when he could have, and when he felt he 
ought to have, chosen the path of holiness and heaven. 
Our antecedents certainly have much to do with us ; 
but despite antecedents, we can resist the devil if we 
will ; in that are involved the sublimest resistance and 
grandest conquest. Some of those whose antecedents 
have been as black as one can well picture, have been 
governed by purposes based upon the highest integrity, 
and have, nevertheless, become the most honored instru- 
ments in God's service. Moral differences are ahvays 
optional ; else we are not men, but machines. Tre- 
mendous, therefore, are the powers intrusted to every 
man ; and great is the fall of that man's house who 
builds upon sand. 

The day had been when, in the innocence of child- 
hood, Judas had sported on the hills of Kerioth, which 
were almost within sight from the Mount of Olives. 
He was the hope and confidence of parents and 
friends. A promising youth he must have been. But 
he had one point of danger and exposure. Satan 
could overthrow him, if at all, by bringing everything 
to bear upon that point ; and at that point, without a 
double guard, Satan could overthrow him. But Judas, 
in this respect, w r as no worse than others. Every 
man has his weak point of character ; some one 
where and respecting one thing ; others another 
where and respecting something else. It has come to 



THE DEFEAT. 91 

be an adage that every man has his price, at which 
Satan can buy him. And Satan knows enough not to 
make great bids for small returns. He can better 
afford to plot twenty years for the overthrow of a great 
soul than contrive a single day to entangle one who is 
not much. Luther, Paul, our Saviour, what assaults 
they received ! When one is severely tempted by the 
devil, a compliment is paid. The devil strikes only, 
we w^ere about to say, for the best ; he seems to let 
the half-wits go ; but Christ strikes for all, rank and 
file ; * to him all souls are equally dear and alike 
precious. 

The basis of an avaricious character was born in 
Judas ; this was his weakness, — his easily beset- 
ting sin, — and Satan knew it. Properly controlled, 
however, and sanctified, this disposition would have 
proved a benefit to the world and the church. It 
would have led him to gather up the fragments, that 
nothing be lost, that the whole might be consecrated 
to God. As it was, however, this element of charac- 
ter became the source of danger ; he kept yielding 
until avarice became a ruling passion. It was love of 
gain that kept him from going back, when " many 
went back, and walked no more with him " (Christ). 

* But the results are widely opposite in the two opposite 
cases. Those who accept Christ, he inspires with his own 
life, and they at length are able to confound the unsanctified 
wisdom of the world. Those of many accomplishments, on 
the other hand, whom the devil deceives, he at length 
plunges into disgrace and ruin. It is thus that the first 
often become last, and the last first. In the end God will 
have the best troops in the field, and will keep in advance of 
Satan. 



9 2 



THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 



It was not carrying the bag while he followed the 
Master, but, at length, following the Master that he 
might carry the bag and pilfer from it, that made 
Judas a thief and a hireling. He might have carried 
the bag with the same devotion that others carried the 
cross, if he had been so disposed. It was, doubtless, 
however, a very hazardous thing for Judas to hear the 
clink of coin, when he saw that all hope of promotion 
from the position of bag-carrier among that company 
of Galileans to the emoluments of lord high treasurer 
of the new kingdom of Israel, was at an end. As he 
saw Christ, day by day, yielding up every opportunity 
of establishing a kingdom, and of gratifying the golden 
hopes of his followers, and as he began to suspect that 
Christ's kingdom was not to be temporal, but spiritual 
(which fact seemed to have been apprehended by 
Judas sooner than by any other disciple), the money 
was no longer safe in his hands. Some men are so 
constituted that they had better never expose them- 
selves to the dangers and temptations of handling 
other men's money. Such was Judas, and many 
other such there are who had better seek other em- 
ployment. Much depends upon adaptation between 
employment and constitutional characteristics. If a 
man puts himself in the teeth of danger, the chances 
are, that in the same, hour of his venture, occasions, 
impulses, and circumstances will conspire against him ; 
and unless there is a double guard at the point of 
weakness, also the defence of previous resistance, the 
victim is surely ruined ; then shall be seen, not what a 
day, but what an hour and even a moment, can bring 
forth. 



THE DEFEAT. 93 

Pertinent, also, is another question : Why was Judas 
selected for this position, and why was he allowed to 
hold it, if Christ knew all ? * Truly it seems a terri- 
ble dispensation by which God did, in this case, and 
does, also, in other cases, allow wicked men to minister 
in holy things. How strange that a wolf dressed in 
black is allowed sometimes to occupy a pulpit! But 
is any injustice done such characters if God does not 
at once strike them with a thunderbolt, rather than 
leave them to a gradual exposure and a no less terri- 
ble doom ? In the instance before us, we suspect that 
Judas was hardly selected for the place he filled, but 
that he got himself the place. He was an office- 
seeker, the last, of all men, fit for office, but the men 
who somehow often obtain the office they desire. 
God allowed such disposal of events eighteen hundred 
years ago, and allows it still. 

But why allow Judas to hold the position ? We do not 
know. This case of Judas is only one of a thousand. 
The moment any defaulter commences his course, why 
does not Providence arrest his steps or depose him from 

* Story states this point strongly : — 

" Besides, why chose they for their almoner 
A man so lost to shame, so foul with greed? 
Or why, from some five-score of trusted men, 
Choose him as one apostle among twelve? 
Or why, if he were known to be so vile 
(And who can hide his baseness at all times?), 
Keep him in close communion to the last? 
Nought in his previous life, or acts, or words, 
Shows this consummate villain, that, full-grown, 
Leaps all at once to such a height of crime." 



94 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

his position of trust? It does not. Our Saviour did in 
the case of Judas as God now often does in the case of 
sinful men ; he employed all possible means to win back 
the rebel heart, though knowing full well that none of 
them would avail. Events must be so ordered that 
every mouth shall be stopped in the day of judgment, 
and all things will then disclose that God has done 
the best he could under the circumstances, in every 
individual case, to bless and redeem. 

It would, of course, have been just for Christ ab- 
ruptly to have exposed this traitor, and have disgraced 
him in the presence of his fellow-disciples. But he 
did not. He treated him kindly. What could have 
succeeded if ,not kindness? He knelt, at their last 
meeting but one, and bathed that disciple's feet. How 
could Judas have escaped, at that moment, a twinge 
of remorse? Peter, under his personal sense of un- 
worthiness, exclaimed, as our Lord approached him 
with towel and bowl, " Thou shalt never wash my 
feet." But this complacent hypocrite, defaulter, and 
traitor allowed the act without objection or hesitation. 

He was also admitted into the nearest and most in- 
timate relationship. He was intrusted with the most 
important office. What, that could be, was not done 
for Judas? He listened daily to the instructions, coun- 
sels, and prayers of his Master. Some of the teach- 
ings of our Lord were presented in such a way as 
seemingly to have been given especially to overcome 
the constitutional failing of Judas. The contrast be- 
tween the service of God and Mammon, the discourse 
on the deceitfulness of riches, the proverb of the camel 
and the eye of the needle, the parable of the rich but 



THE DEFEAT. 95 

foolish man, and the requirements made upon the 
young ruler, must have fallen upon this man's heart 
as though they had been chiefly or solely meant for 
him. If he would have yielded to the truth under 
any circumstances, it would have been while thus 
associated with Christ ; but men are sometimes slain 
upon the steps of the temple. It was not necessary 
for Judas, because he was treasurer, to betray his Mas- 
ter. He did that voluntarily. Those talents of his, 
had they been consecrated, — there was no reason why 
they should not have been, — would have immortalized 
him, and have given him one of the highest positions 
among his fellows. Yes, everything was done that 
could be done, in consistency with his freedom, to save 
this wayward disciple, but he would not ; therefore — 
But aside from no injustice done, there was a di- 
vine purpose in allowing Judas to pursue his course 
and hold his position. He thereby became the spy 
whom Christ had permitted to remain among the dis- 
ciples, even after repeated thefts. He was the devil's 
tool, but the world's witness to the integrity and hon- 
esty of this company which was led by Jesus. If there 
' had been fraud anywhere, it would have been in 
the department of the treasury. If Christ had been 
an impostor, he would have winked at certain irreg- 
ularities, and have connived with his treastirer. But 
this sharp-eyed, shrewd man, the sharpest and the 
shrewdest of the twelve, at length confessed to the 
rulers that Jesus was faultless and pure. Important, 
indeed, was it, if Judas was bent upon a dishonest 
course, that he had been permitted to carry the bag. 
A Pharaoh was he in accomplishing divine purposes. 



g6 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

The wrath of man will always work out the praise 
of God. God rules, the devil tries to. 

"And as they did eat," continues the narrative, 
"Jesus said, Behold, the hand of him that betrayeth 
me is with me on the table." * Eleven of that com- 
pany were terror-struck ; one only remained cool and 
self-composed. They looked upon one another in 
amazement. The question flew from mouth to mouth, 
"Lord, is it I ?" "Is it I?" "Is it I? "f No one 
there bore the face of a traitor. Each, for the moment, 
thought not of his neighbor, but of himself. J Yet that 
man, who knew more than the others, who had already 
agreed to the betrayal, remained silent, and doubtless 
his fellow-disciples mistook his silence for conscious 
integrity. 

Our Lord, perceiving that no effect was produced 
upon the insensibility of Judas by this indefinite inti- 
mation, and being still desirous of reaching his heart, 
narrowed the group, and said, " He that dippeth his 
hand with me in the dish, the same shall betray 
me." § And still we read that " the disciples looked 
one on another, doubting of whom he spake." But 
Judas had meanwhile unwittingly betrayed himself, 
by an act which seems to have been unobserved by 
any of his fellow-disciples. 

The Master, it is w r ell known, was the proper dis- 
penser of the food at the table. But, in an unguarded 
moment, Judas had dipped in the dish where no one 

* Matt. xxvi. 21, 22. Mark xiv. 18, 19. Luke xxii. 21, 23. 
John xiii. 21, 22. 

t Matt. xxvi. 22. Mark xiv. 19. 

% John xiii. 22. § Matt. xxvi. 23. 



THE DEFEAT. 97 

else would have, and where no other one save the 
Master ought to have dipped the ladle. It was an 
accident. Judas did not intend to be discourteous. 
He meant to have received the portion, allotted to him, 
as did the others ; but unconsciously the speaking hand 
betrayed the traitor,* and forthwith our Saviour added, 
11 The Son of man indeed goeth, as it is written of 
him, but woe to the man by whom the Son of man is 
betrayed ! Good were it for that man if he had never 
been born."f 

What an appalling denunciation ! Kind invitations 
and offices having failed, our Lord sought to awaken 
the slumbering conscience of this follower by tearing 
from before his eyes the mask with which Satan had 
so successfully blinded him. 

Why stands not Judas pale as a corpse? 

How heedlessly men sometimes thrust aside the de- 

* "It is a psychological fact," says Lange, "that an evil 
conscience will betray itself in the hand, at the very moment 
when one succeeds in showing a hypocritical face, full of 
innocence and calmness." 

Mr. Webster was once examining a witness, whose story, 
under direct and cross examination, had been unusually 
clear and explicit. There was no deviation, in sentence or 
word. The testimony could not be broken or impeached. 
The witness was perfectly composed, and his voice not the 
least tremulous. But Mr. Webster had noticed that, in an 
unguarded moment, the witness's hand had wandered to his 
side pocket, and was quickly withdrawn. Whereupon Mr. 
Webster sprang to his feet with the force of a giant, and with 
the voice of a lion exclaimed, "Out with it, sir!" and the 
affrighted witness drew from his pocket the testimony he had 
given, carefully written in the hand of the opposing counsel. 

t Matt. xxvi. 24. Mark xiv. 21. 

7 



98 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

nunciations of God's word, and the deep convictions 
of their souls ! 

There is a kind of doom in the words "that man; 99 
they dismiss the traitor. He is to be henceforth a 
stranger. " That man" not a disciple. " That man," 
equivalent to " I know not whence thou art ; w " De- 
part from me," " Worker of iniquity." 

" It were good for that man if he had never been 
born 99 But eternity is so long, and heaven is so 
glorious, that if a man should suffer a million ages, 
and then be restored, were it not better that he had 
been born ? Yes, — if he could be restored. 

This was no cant saying on the lips of Christ. He 
often spoke as if he knew that there is a fire which 
will never be quenched. Nor is this the language of 
rage ; it is the announcement of one whose heart 
bleeds at being obliged to pronounce it. Our Lord 
was always calm when he spoke of retribution. His 
voice never trembled with uncertainty, and his vision 
was not limited, but his eye, undimmed, pierced both: 
the glory and the gloom of endless ages. Who, after 
listening to his words, will dare face death unpre- 
pared ? 

Why falls not the traitor at the feet of the Master, 
imploring escape from such dreadful doom ? Alas ! 
how successfully Satan befools and befogs the mind 
that yields to him ! How deaf the ear that heard not 
those terrible maledictions ! There sat that insensible 
and guilty apostate unmoved, thinking of his bargain 
with the rulers, and of the coming opportunity to be- 
tray his Master, and of his suburban plot of ground, 
where he was to pass his future years, and fare sump- 



THE DEFEAT. 99 

tuously every day. " Thou fool, this night thy soul 
shall be required of thee." 

John at length asked Christ plainly who it was that 
should betray him, for as yet no one knew save the 
betrayed and the betrayer. Jesus answered, u He it is 
to whom I shall give a sop, when I have dipped it." 
And when he had dipped the sop, when every eye 
was fixed, w r hen every breath was hushed, when 
every heart had almost for the moment forgotten to 
beat, " he gave it to Judas Iscariot, the son of Simon," 
thereby fulfilling the Scripture, " If thine enemy hun- 
ger, feed him." 

Then it was that Judas for the first time broke the 
silence, and with all the surprise of injured innocence 
inquired — what ? " Is it I?" Our Saviour made a 
simple affirmative reply — "Thou hast said it." * John 
adds, " And after the sop, Satan entered into him." 
Then said Jesus, " What thou doest, do quickly. 
Now, no man at the table knew for what intent he 
spake this unto him. For some of them thought, 
because Judas had the bag, that Jesus had said unto 
him, Buy those things that we have need of against 
the feast ; or, that he should give something to the 
poor. He then, having received the sop," glided out, 
like a serpent, into the darkness ; " and it was night." f 
No wonder ! 

Judas had the effrontery, as he left, to take w T ith 
him the treasures of the company ; he had the money, 
the whole of it. He could now make his last pay- 
ment for the land, if it had not already been paid for ; 

* Matt. xxvi. 25. t John xiii. 26-30. 



IOO THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

we suspect it had been ; he was not the man to run 
much in debt; or he could now secure the adjoining 
lot — the ambition of every land-owner. But " what 
shall it profit a man if he shall gain the whole world, 
and lose his own soul?" The hour of mercy expired ; 
the Holy Ghost withdrew ; Satan triumphed ; and a 
professor of religion, a preacher, an apostle, one of 
the twelve, completed the climax of iniquity ; the 
deceiver, the hypocrite, the defaulter, and the traitor 
stands before us, possessed of the devil. 

Be not startled. This is not an extinct species of 
madness. Now, as of yore, the devil possesses men. 
It is a proud record of the church, that its members 
are so largely prevented from falling into this condi- 
tion, and from committing appalling crimes. The 
Knapps, Crowninshields, Greens, Websters, Evanses, 
and the like, were not professors of religion. Still, 
exceptions do appear. Deacon Samuel Andrews, the 
Kingston murderer, was an office-bearer in the church. 
Satan had worked much the same with him as with 
Judas. Andrews had for years tampered with vice. 
Hid in his house, concealed in his barn, buried in his 
cellar, were found various articles stolen from con- 
fiding neighbors. He had played the fatal game with 
his soul's enemy for small stakes, and had been per- 
mitted to win. He was then allured on to greater 
risks. He walked in the cemetery with Holmes. 
He had, before this, brooded over crime. He had 
more than once dallied with thoughts of murder. 
Holmes, at that time, had money about him ; not 
much ; only six hundred dollars. But Andrews's 
blood was hot. It had been heating for the deed. 



THE DEFEAT. IOI 

There are twenty thousand more for him in the will. 
Why wait for natural death ? Passion became master. 
A strange fire gleamed from his eyes, a stranger mad- 
ness was enthroned in his heart. A stone at his feet 
was seized, a blow given, and all was over ; for the 
devil had taken possession of his victim. 

There are castles whose walls you partially descend 
by many steps. You reach a last one, followed, you 
naturally expect, by another, w r hich you attempt to 
take ; but a sheer, smooth wall plunges you instantly 
into a stepless and deadly abyss below. "After I 
threw the first stone, which stunned him," says An- 
drews, "I knew nothing more until I found myself 
washing my hands in the brook." Such is the plunge 
down the castle wall. Thus confessed Green. Not 
unlike this was Webster's confession. The fiend long 
lures us on, step by step ; he watches for the ripened 
hour, and when it comes, he leaps to the will, and his 
murderous bidding is obeyed. Resistance at the first 
approach is necessary, or everything is jeopardized. 
Great crimes are always the outgrowth of minor ones, 
though, in their results and bearings, there are no 
minor crimes. The notorious criminal always thor- 
oughly paves his pathway, and childhood often places 
the first stones. It is the preliminary tampering with 
sin that does the mischief. The journey of trans- 
gression is dangerous from the start. The man who 
yields, though in a thing often regarded unimportant, 
has stepped his foot upon a frightfully slippery place, 
and has taken a deadly serpent into his bosom. 

Facts show how often the crime of Judas has been 
repeated, though under a great variety of circum- 



102 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

stances. Men who have been intrusted with the 
money of others are tempted to appropriate some 
portion of it to their own use ; it is to be thus em- 
ployed only for a time ; there is an honest intention 
of restoring it in full ; it is a hard spot to bridge over ; 
it is to help out from present difficulty some embar- 
rassed friend ; in the long run no one shall be 
wronged.* Cursed be such temptations ! One had 
better go half clothed, half fed, and half starved ; had 
better be the scorn of the more fashionable in commu- 
nity, rather than use, without the owner's consent or 
knowledge, one dollar or one farthing of his money. 
It is not so much the money, nor the use of the 
money ; the amount taken may be so trifling that no 
crisis will result either way ; but the amount cannot 
be so trifling that the character is not demoralized by 
the transaction. The man's self-respect receives 
thereby a deplorable shock. The key to the fortress 
is surrendered, and the devil will thereafter perplex 
and ruin the transgressor, if he can. A cunning, and 
a crafty, and a heartless wretch is Satan. Everything 
is allowed by him to go swimmingly prosperous for a 

* It is not difficult to imagine that the preliminary defal- 
cations of Judas were committed, not with reckless disregard 
of every consideration, but with much plausible reasoning. 
He may have only intended at first an investment for the 
corporation of which he was treasurer; or an investment for 
himself, with the intention of full restoration of the funds 
employed. Inability to do this, together with difficulty in 
meeting payments, may have led to continued thefts and 
false returns. At length, demoralized, and convinced of a 
6peedy end to his Master's career, he was ripe for all the 
atrocities his history displayed. 






THE DEFEAT. IO3 

time** but he always deserts his victim when the rub 
comes ; he helps into, but never out from difficulties, 
except to plunge one into still greater difficulties. He 
watches for the hour of ripening with keener eye than 
the husbandman watches his maturing crops ; he 
knows when to assault his victim with multiplied 
temptations ; he knows when to employ every recruit 
and every auxiliary ; he knows how to hunt down 
and dog the guilty from place to place, until he ex- 
torts, if possible, unlimited compliance with his terms. 
As fire is a different thing w T hen a servant upon the 
hearth and when lording it over our roof, so is Satan, 
when a suitor and when a tyrant. 

"Let no man trust the first false step of guilt; 
It hangs upon a precipice 
Whose steep descent in last perdition ends." 

The progress, too, after one has fairly set out in 
a course of sin, increases with alarming augmenta- 
tion. Thus, in the case of Judas, his cherished avari- 
ciousness was followed by unfaithfulness ; then, in 
quick succession, by embezzlement, treachery, be- 

* Psalm lxxiii. 

There is a tree known as the Judas tree, which hap- 
pily illustrates the deceitful and alluring character of sin. 
The blossoms appear before the leaves, and are of brilliant 
crimson. The flaming beauty of the flowers attracts innu- 
merable insects, and the wandering bee is drawn to it to 
gather honey. But every bee that alights upon its blossoms 
imbibes a fatal opiate, and drops dead from among the crim- 
son flowers to the earth. Beneath this enticing tree, the 
earth is strewn with the victims of its fatal fascinations. 



104 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

trayal, and Satanic possession. The truth is, that 
every man has within him elements of eternal kin- 
ship, and also unexplored mines of wrath and death ; 
that by which he may become little less than a God, 
on the one hand, or a baleful and everlasting wreck, 
upon the other. And mighty are the issues pending 
upon the start. There is no man of earnest soul, 
who does not, at times, actually feel himself trembling 
upon the appalling verge of remediless ruin ; and a 
single step, at the critical moment, often results in the 
inevitable plunge.* 

The fearful nature of crime, the startling capabili- 
ties of the human heart to commit crime, the treach- 
erous beginnings and shocking terminations of crime, 
therefore appeal, as with the voice of God, to every 
one whose face is in the least turned towards any form 
of transgression, to escape at once from the impending 
doom. Emerson somewhere remarks that " man, 
though in brothels, or jails, or on gibbets, is on bis 
way to all that is good and true." One important 
condition is herein overlooked ■ — everything depends 
upon which way the man's face is turned. 

Nay, the deep undertone of the whole universe is a 
solid entreaty to the sinful to repent and accept super- 
natural strength, for every one needs strength more 
than natural to pave the way through these perils of 
life up to a glorious immortality. 

* Dr. South's statement of this thought is forcible : " There 
is no man breathing but carries about him a sleeping lion in 
his bosom, which God can and may, when he pleases, rouse 
up and let loose upon him, so as to tear and worry him, to 
that degree that he shall be glad to take sanctuary in a quiet 
grave." 



THE DEFEAT. IO5 

A few hours only intervene after the last words of 
our Saviour, — " What thou doest, do quickly," — 
before new scenes crowd upon us. The lights are 
out in the supper-hall, the Master and his companions 
are among the cypress trees at the foot of the Mount 
of Olives, in the garden of Gethsemane. They are 
under the triple shadows of mountain, city, and orna- 
mental trees. The traitor has, meantime, notified the 
rulers that everything is now in readiness. There are 
bustle and haste in the temple courts ; this thing must 
be done by night, and before the common people get 
wind of the transaction ; otherwise they will prevent 
it. The detachment 'guard of five hundred — the 
Roman cohort for the castle of Antonia — are ordered 
out. The captain of the temple, attended by the tem- 
ple police, with a few private but interested citizens, 
together with the priests, rulers, and servants not on 
temple duty, are drawn up in line of march. Silently, 
at that midnight hour, headed by the captain, who 
was arm in arm with Judas, they thread their way 
through the streets of Jerusalem.* Judas is familiar 

* The account, as gathered from the different evangelists, 
is the following : — 

" When Jesus had spoken these words, he went forth with 
his disciples over the brook Cedron, where was a garden, 
into the which he entered, and his disciples. And Judas 
also, which betrayed him, knew the place; for Jesus ofttimes 
resorted thither with his disciples. Judas, then, having re- 
ceived a band of men and officers from the chief priests and 
Pharisees, cometh thither with lanterns, and torches, and 
weapons. Jesus, therefore, knowing all things that should 
come upon him, went forth, and said unto them, Whom seek 
ye? They answered him, Jesus of Nazareth. Jesus saith 



106 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

with the way, and with all the private resorts of his 
Master, and knows the spot where he would this night 
be found ; often had he visited it, in company with 
his Master. The troops now on the way are sufficient 
to surround it. This being silently done, their torches 
and lanterns are quickly lit, and their weapons drawn. 
Humanly speaking, escape is impossible. They ap- 
proach gradually, drawing in towards the centre. The 
Master and the eleven are thereby exposed to full view. 
" Now," says Matthew, " he that betrayed him 
gave them a sign, saying, Whomsoever I shall kiss, 

unto them, I am he. And Judas also, which betrayed him, 
stood with them." John xviii. 1-5. 

"And while he yet spake, lo, Judas, one of the twelve, 
came, and with him a great multitude, with swords and 
staves, from the chief priests and elders of the people. Now 
he that betrayed him gave them a sign, saying, Whomsoever 
I shall kiss, that same is he; hold him fast. And forthwith 
he came to Jesus, and said, Hail, Master; and kissed him. 
And Jesus said unto him, Friend, wherefore art thou come? 
Then came they, and laid hands on Jesus, and took him." 
Matt. xxvi. 47-50. 

"And immediately, while he yet spake, cometh Judas, one 
of the twelve, and with him a great multitude, with swords 
and staves, from the chief priests, and the scribes, and the 
elders. And he that betrayed him had given them a token, 
saying, Whomsoever I shall kiss, that same is he; take him, 
and lead him away safely. And as soon as he was come, he 
goeth straightway to him, and saith, Master, Master; and 
kissed him." Mark xiv. 43-45. 

"And while he yet spake, behold, a multitude, and he that 
was called Judas, one of the twelve, went before them, and 
drew near unto Jesus, to kiss him. But Jesus said unto him, 
Judas, betrayest thou the Son of man with a kiss?" Luke 
xxii. 47, 48f 



THE DEFEAT. IO7 

that same is he ; hold him fast." " Hold him fast." 
Mark the words! Ill at ease is Judas. " And," con- 
tinues the narrative, " forthwith he came to Jesus, 
and said, Hail, Master ; and kissed him." Horrors ! 
Of a truth, the criminal capabilities of humanity are 
fiendish ; that kiss, which should have remained as a 
world-wide and pure symbol of love, is henceforth an 
effaceless brand-mark upon the forehead of the race, 
indicative of lurking treachery and death. 

"Companion," said our Lord, — such is the origi- 
nal, — "why standest thou here?" This question 
seemed to be the first syllable that stirred the con- 
science of Judas to due comprehension of his guilt. 

Quickly followed another dreadful interrogation, 
which must have rolled like terrific thunder through 
the soul of the traitor — "Judas, betrayest thou the 
Son of man with a kiss ? " For an instant their eyes 
met; beaming from the face of the one was calm- 
ness, mingled with mercy ; stamped upon the face of 
the other was a rayless despair. The next instant, 
Jesus and his disciple separated, with a silent but 
eternal farewell. 

It is well nigh the hour of morning. The temple 
seems quite deserted. The Levites are in the guard 
room. The priests on duty are within the court of 
the Israelites. All are suddenly startled by a heavy 
footfall, and panting breath, such as they are unused 
to hearing. Why comes this intruder here? But no 
guard is able to arrest him. See him, his eyes blood- 
shot, and in his outstretched hand is a bag of silver. 
He rushes past the Levite watch, under the vine-clad 



108 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

arch, into the sanctuary, into the court of the priests, 
even into the holy place (ev tw *>aw), where no com- 
mon Jew was allowed, and whence all Gentiles were 
interdicted, on penalty of death if they entered. But 
to this man the sanctity of the temple is nothing, the 
resentment of the priests is nothing ; everything, save 
one thing, is as nothing. Give way ! Stop him not I 
for a firebrand is in his bosom, and the avenger of 
blood is upon his track. 

O wretched man ! who shall deliver him ? He 
tries to make restitution ; as a last resource of his 
hopeless misery, he comes to the priests ; God's min- 
isters will surely pity him ; he implores, and he begs, 
and he proffers the thirty pieces of silver, but they are 
like garments spotted with blood — nobody wants 
them. Alas for the thirty pieces of silver ! Had 
they been talents of gold, they were no relief or atone- 
ment. His agony is every moment intensified ; his 
conscience, which had suffered only an occasional 
twinge, now rises like an army with banners. " I 
have sinned, I have sinned," he exclaims, " in that I 
have betrayed innocent blood." " And they said, 
What is that to us? See thou to that." Heartless 
monsters ! * Yes, they repel this ill-fated wretch ; 

* Often has this conduct been repeated. Young men have 
been admitted into the society of those who pass for gentle- 
men ; they have lost everything upon the stake of a single 
throw, and being of no further service, have been spurned 
from the presence of those who but lately paid them every 
attention, and then have been kicked into the street, and 
told to go to the devil. That there is honor among thieves, 
and the like, is, oftener than otherwise, merely a myth. 



THE DEFEAT. IO9 

they gibe him with heartless language ; they heed not 
the remorse-stung victim whom, but shortly before, 
they had embraced ; they see his distress, but they 
had used him as long as they wanted anything of him* 
and now they bid him begone. " It is none of our 
business ; away, thou fool." 

The horror-stricken man deigns not a word in re- 
ply ; at the feet of the astonished priests he flings the 
accursed blood-money ; the chink of it, sounding like 
a death-knell, seems to startle anew the betrayer ; he 
flies to find rest in solitude, but fails in his search ; he 
dares stay on earth no longer, and he wiliy^/, rather 
than longer fear, the torments of the lost. 

He speeds onward, past the palace of Herod, 
away from the tower of Antonia, in the opposite 
direction from the garden of Gethsemane ; no course 
is more natural, and none more fatal ; onward, on- 
ward like a madman he rushes ; he thinks that they 
who loved Jesus are about to kill him ; like Cain, 
he feels that every man's hand is against him ; that 
his punishment is greater than he can bear. His de- 
jection becomes despair ; the pains of hell get hold 
upon him ; Satan tantalizes him, and aggravates every 
sin and mistake of his life ; the purity of Christ's 
life haunts and condemns him. "Innocent blood ! " 
"innocent blood I" is before his eyes, and stains his 
hands. Had it been sinful blood, he could have 
washed it off; tranquillized would have been his de- 
spair if one false step in that faultless life of Christ 
could have been recalled. "Blood, blood!" ex- 
claimed Booth, the murderer of Lincoln. Indelible 
ever are the stains of innocent blood ; the waters of 



IIO THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

the "multitudinous seas" cannot wash them off.* 
Murder will out ! No nook nor corner in the whole 
universe of God can conceal a murderer.f No sooner 
does the horrified Judas plant his feet for the last time 
upon his intended future homestead, that charming 
spot purchased by money stolen from poor people and 
the bag, than he feels that every finger in Jerusalem is 
pointing him out, and' that every voice, loaded with a 
curse, pronounces him thief, traitor, and murderer ! 
He tries to reason with himself: "I have done no 
murder ; the priests are the ones who are killing Je- 
sus ; and yet — I am an accomplice; nay, the prin- 
cipal. 'Tis my hand that struck the blow, my spear 
ran him through. Can I not pray? 

1 What if this cursed hand 
Were thicker than itself with brothers' blood? 
Is there not rain enough in the sweet heavens 
To wash it white as snow? 
Try what repentance can. What can it not? 
Yet what can it, when one cannot repent? 
O wretched state! O bosom black as death! 
O limed soul ! ' J 

What, is there no security here? Am I not upon my 
own soil?" Your own soil ! That charming plot of 
ground has become the most frightful spot on God's 
earth. 

See ! The eyes of the betrayer start from their 
sockets, his lips are pallid, he trembles like a scourged 

* Shakespeare. 

f Daniel Webster's plea at the trial of the Knapps for the 
murder of Captain White. See Appendix H. 
J Hamlet. 



THE DEFEAT. Ill 

slave ; on every hand he hears the groans of dying 
men ; the rustling leaf is the breath of an enemy, and 
every sound is an avenger's footfall. All things mean 
mischief; every grape-vine conceals a dagger, poised 
and trembling to leap into his heart ; every nook is 
crowded with murderers. 

" Have mercy, Jesu ! Soft; I did but dream. 
O, coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me ! 
The lights burn blue. It is now dead midnight. 
Cold, fearful drops stand on my trembling flesh. 
What do I fear? Myself? There's none else by: 

Is there a murderer here ? No ; yes ; I am. 

Then fly. What, from myself? Great reason; why ? 

Lest I revenge. What? Myself on myself? 

I love myself. Wherefore ? For any good 

That I myself have done unto myself? 

O, no; alas, I rather hate myself 

For hateful deeds committed by myself. 

I am a villain ; yet I lie, I am not. 

Fool, of thyself speak well. Fool, do not flatter. 

My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, 

And every tongue brings in a several tale, 

And every tale condemns me for a villain. 

Perjury, perjury, in the high'st degree, 

All several sins, all used in each degree, 

Throng to the bar, crying all, Guilty, guilty! 

I shall despair. There is no creature loves me; 

And, if I die, no soul will pity me : 

Nay, wherefore should thej'? since that I myself 

Find in myself no pity to myself.* 

Unfortunate and wretched man, did you think on 
that spot of ground to build a royal home? Did you 

* Richard III. 



112 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

expect to hold some official position among your fel- 
low-citizens? Did you imagine that the noted men 
of the realm would visit you, and sup at your table, 
and praise your vines and wines? Did you intend 
there to pass your years with a queenly wife, and with 
happy children? How overwhelming the defeat you 
have met ! 

" Seeing that face, I could but fear the end; 
For death was in it, looking through his eyes, 
Nor could I follow, to arrest the fate, 
That drove him madly on with scorpion whip." 



Does the eye of any one who is securing property 
by gains and means which are questionable, fall upon 
this page? Is he fancying that the day will come 
when he can retire from the turmoil of business, and 
enjoy his ill-gotten possessions? God's providence, 
and an experience well nigh universal, thunder, " No, 
he shall not." There is less happiness for him than 
for the honest savage in his jungle home. 

What makes voluntary suicide at once detestable 
and horrifying, is its embodiment of rebellion against 
God, and a defiant forth- stepping to his judgment bar. 
It is the natural expression of extreme self-condemna- 
tion, and also a type of eternal condemnation. It is 
not always the worst step in a man's life, but it points 
back to a terrible declension in the way to ruin. 

From this frightful condition in which Judas found 
himself, he at once completed his resolve to lush to 
perdition. Every facility was at hand. The most 



THE DEFEAT. 113 

probable facts are the following : * An overhanging 
limb of a tree, growing upon the edge of the de- 
clivity, was selected ; the strap which for three years 
had held the money bag was attached to the limb, and 
then adjusted about the neck ; a single bound, and the 
victim dangled for a moment in the air ; the well-worn 
strap snapped asunder ; the tree shook off the self- 
murderer ; his own soil spurned him ; he was hurled 
from one jagged point to another ; the strangled 

* The statements made are based upon the following Scrip- 
ture data : — 

" Then Judas, which had betrayed him, when he saw that 
he was condemned, repented himself, and brought again the 
thirty pieces of silver to the chief priests and elders, saying, 
I have sinned in that I have betrayed the innocent blood. 
And they said, What is that to us? See thou to that. And 
he cast down the pieces of silver in the temple, and departed, 
and went and hanged himself." Matt, xxvii. 3-5. 

" Now this man purchased a field with the reward of ini- 
quity; and falling headlong, he burst asunder in the midst, 
and all his bowels gushed out. And it was known unto all 
the dwellers at Jerusalem ; insomuch as that field is called, in 
their proper tongue, Aceldama, that is to say, The field of 
blood." Acts i. 18, 19. 

Story's description of the discovery of the corpse is 
graphic : — 

"The sky was dark with heavy, lowering clouds; 

A lifeless, stifling air weighed on the world ; 

A dreadful silence like a nightmare lay 

Crouched on its bosom, waiting, grim and gray, 

In horrible suspense of some dread thing. 

A creeping sense of death, a sickening smell, 

Infected the dull breathing of the wind. 

A thrill of ghosts went by me now and then, 

8 



114 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

wretch burst asunder in his descent ; and we turn to 
hide our eyes from the mangled and disgusting corpse 
that lies below in the dark ravine, over which the 
evangelist has thrown a friendly mantle, in which are 
inwrought these simple but impressive words : " Gone 
to his own place." That mantle we will not attempt 
to lift, but may be permitted to add to the epitaph one 

WOrd DEFEATED. 

And made my flesh creep as I wandered on. 

At last I came to where a cedar stretched 

Its black arms out beneath a dusky rock, 

And, passing through its shadow, all at once 

I started ; for against the dubious light m 

A dark and heavy mass, that to and fro 

Swung slowly with its weight, before me grew. 

A sick, dread sense came over me ; I stopped — 

I could not stir. A cold and clammy sweat 

Oozed out all over me ; and all my limbs, 

Bending with tremulous weakness like a child's, 

Gave way beneath me. Then a sense of shame 

Aroused me. I advanced, stretched forth my hand, 

And pushed the shapeless mass; and at my touch 

It yielding swung — the branch above it creaked, 

And back returning, struck against my face. 

A human body! Was it dead, or not? 

Swiftly my sword I drew, and cut it down, 

And on the sand all heavily it dropped. 

I plucked the robes away, exposed the face — 

'Twas Judas, as I feared, cold, stiff, and dead : 

That suffering heart of his had ceased to beat." 



THE TRIUMPH. 



Until the grave, the rod and cross will lie on ns ; but then 
comes their end. Paul Gerhardt. 

Providence has a wild, rough, incalculable road to its end, 
and it is of no use to try to whitewash its huge, mixed instru- 
mentalities, or to dress up that terrific benefactor in a clean 
shirt and white neck-cloth of a student in divinity. 

Emerson. 

The eternal stars shine out as soon as it is dark enough. 

Carlyle. 

When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in 
battalions. Shakespeare. 

Extraordinary afflictions are not always the punishment of 
extraordinary sins, but sometimes the trial of extraordinary 
graces. Matthew Henry. 

Affliction is a school or academy, wherein the best schol- 
ars are prepared for the commencement days of the Deity. 

Robert Burton. 

A virtuous and well-disposed person is like good metal, — 
the more he is fired the more he is fined ; the more he is op- 
posed, the more he is approved. Wrongs may well try him, 
and touch him, but they cannot imprint on him any false 
stamp. Richelieu. 

I consider how a man comes out of the furnace; gold will 
lie for a month in the furnace without losing a grain. 

Cecil. 

Times of general calamity and confusion have ever been 
productive of the greatest minds. The purest ore is pro- 
duced from the hottest furnace, and the brightest thunder- 
bolt is elicited from the darkest storm. Colton. 

"7 



Trial brings man face to face with God ; the flimsy v^il of 
bright cloud is blown away; he feels that he is standing out- 
side the earth, with nothing between him and the Eternal 
Infinite. O, there is something in the sick bed, and the rest- 
lessness and the languor of shattered health, and the sorrow 
of affections withered, and the stream of life poisoned at the 
fountain, and the cold, lonely feeling of utter sadness of the 
heart, — what is felt when God strikes home in earnest, — 
that forces a man to feel what is real and what is not. 

Robertson. 

Only one moment of weakness, think you? — one single 
moment more; . . . but that moment is the one selected by 
the tempter for a last trial, and in it you are about to ruin 
his hopes forever, or to give them fresh vigor. Courage, 
then ! Stand firm ! Give not back a single step ! Falter 
not for a moment! Dispel every illusion of the enemy! 
Prove to him that with you he loses both his time and his 
trouble. And, by the reception which you give him, compel 
him to recognize in the disciple the Master who overcame 
him in the wilderness. Monod. 

What claim can that man have to courage who trembles 
at the frowns of fortune? True heroism consists in being 
superior to the ills of life, in whatever shape they may chal- 
lenge you to combat. Napoleon. 

118 



THE TRIUMPH. 



EACH man's life is both a fact and a symbol. 
Everybody has, therefore, both a real and a 
typical history. The actual and the typical history 
of Judas are before us ; he is found to be a type of 
defeated humanity in all ages. Mankind, likewise, 
has other phases of character, and special representa- 
tives of the same. 

The opposite of defeat is triumph. No one can fail 
of calling to mind one of the grandest types of trium- 
phant conflict which history records, and every reader 
will justify careful analysis and application. 

While Abraham was living in Uz of the Chaldees, 
amid scenes of idolatry, while Greece was scarcely 
more than a frontier settlement, — such as the New 
England coast appeared upon the arrival of the Pil- 
grims, — and while Melchisedek, a noble priest and 
prince, was ruling the charming region of Salem, had 
we passed down the eastern slope of the mountains 
separating Palestine from Arabia, we should have 
traversed estates belonging to a man w 7 ho was no less 
faithful than Abraham, no less a Christ-like prince 
than Melchisedek, and who, taken all in all, is one of 

119 



120 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

the noblest and most faultless characters recorded in 
history. This man bears the name of Job.* 

Most modern scholars of note, it is well known, 
whether sceptical or orthodox, agree that the Book of 
Job, which records the trials of this patriarch, is one 
of the most ancient as well as one of the most sublime 
masterpieces among literary productions.*)* 

Some there are, it is true, who have, in times past, 
looked upon Job, not as a real, but as a fictitious 
character ; still it is equally true that at the present- 
time there exists comparatively little doubt that Job is 
the name of a real person, whose essential history 
is recorded in the book bearing his name, and that 
he is as really a person, as David, Paul, and Martin 
Luther are real and not fictitious characters. The 

* Appendix I. 

f *' I call our Book of yob, apart from all theories about 
it," says Carlyle, " one of the grandest things ever written 
with pen. One feels, indeed, as if it were not Hebrew; such 
a noble universality, different from noble patriotism or secta- 
rianism, reigns in it. A noble book; all men's book! It is 
our first, oldest statement of the never-ending problem, man's 
destiny, and God's ways with him here on this earth. And 
all in such free flowing; grand in its sincerity, in its compli- 
city, in its epic melody, and repose of reconcilement. There 
is the seeing eye, the mildly understanding heart. So true, 
every way; true eyesight and vision for all things; material 
things no less than spiritual ; the horse, ' hast thou clothed 
his neck with thunder f — he laughs at the shaking of the 
spear!' Such living likenesses were never seen drawn. 
Sublime sorrow, sublime reconciliation ; oldest choral melo- 
dy as of the heart of mankind; so soft and great; as the 
summer midnight, as the world with its seas and stars! 
There is nothing written, I think, in the Bible or out of it, of 
equal literary merit." 



THE TRIUMPH. 121 

freedom of all early Hebrew writings from such like 
fictions ; the reference to Job, as an actual personage, 
in other and later parts of the Bible ; the numerous 
traditions in the East respecting the patriarch and his 
family ; * the improbability that a Hebrew would have 
invented a character so faultless, yet not belonging to 
his own race ; the remarkable consistency in the devel- 
opment of the various characters introduced ; and the 
singular air of truthfulness pervading the entire narra- 
tive, — contain a mass of accumulative evidence abso- 
lutely unanswerable, in favor of the reality of Job's ex- 
istence and history. Entertaining these opinions, we 

* The following scriptural references establish the fact of 
the high estimate placed upon Job, and likewise the reality 
of his existence : — 

" The word of the Lord came again to me, saying, Son of 
man, when the land sinneth against me by trespassing griev- 
ously, then will I stretch out mine hand upon it, and will 
break the staff of the bread thereof and will send famine 
upon it, and will cut off man and beast from it. Though 
these three men, Noah, Daniel, and Job, were in it, they 
should deliver but their own souls by their righteousness, 
saith the Lord God." Ezekiel xiv. 12-14. 

" Behold,, we count them happy which endure. Ye have 
heard of the patience of Job, and have seen the end of the 
Lord; that the Lord is very pitiful, and of tender mercy." 
James v. 11. 

Traditions found in the Koran, also in D'Herbelot's BibL 
Orient, establish, beyond controversy, the fact that there was 
such a person as Job, who lived in the patriarchal age, and 
who, above all other men, was distinguished for his suffer- 
ings and his patience. Throughout Arabia, reverence for the 
name of Job has been very great, and continues thus to the 
present day. The noblest families claim that they are de- 
scended from this patriarch. 



122 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. ., 

shall be the better prepared to review the life of Job, 
and gather therefrom some of the more important and 
representative lessons. 

Of his early life we have no data save those based 
upon questionable tradition.* We are, at the outset, 
introduced to a man whose wealth, consisting in part 
of rich and extensive lands, and in part of multitudes 
of flocks, was immense. Relatively, but few men,' in 
modern times, would outrate him. In addition to 
this, his domestic relations seem to have been corre- 
spondingly felicitous ; his family was numerous and 
prosperous. He was, likewise, a man of refinement 
and culture, — refinement and culture, we mean, in 
the truest and broadest sense of these terms. His 
lands lay upon the great thoroughfares of merchants 
who passed between Temah, Sheba, and Egypt. He 
thereby had abundant and favorable opportunities for 
collecting all the varied information then known to 
the world ; of this he seems to have been master. 
The lofty tone pervading the speeches of Job shows 
that he was a sage, compared with which many in 
present times, who pretend much, but know little, are 

* Job, or Aiubj is reported by some of the Arabian histori- 
ans to have been descended from Ishmael : by others, his de- 
scent is traced from Isaac, through Esau, from whom he was 
the third, or at most the fourth in succession. And in the 
history given by Khendemir, who distinguishes him by the 
title of The Patient, it is stated that by his mother's side he 
was descended from Lot; that he had been commissioned by 
God to preach the faith to a people of Syria; that although 
no more than three had been converted by his preaching, he 
was, notwithstanding, rewarded for his zeal by immense pos- 
sessions, &c. 



THE TRIUMPH. I 23 

as dust in the balance. In fact, there is a solemnity, 
a solidity, a majesty and grandeur, in this Arabian 
hero, compared with which the frothiness of modern 
cant and mannerism shows in the most pitiable con- 
trast.* 

In addition to all this, Job was a man of high 
political rank ; he was a prince, alike successful in 
war and prosperous in peace. " He was the greatest 
of all the men in the East," says the Arabian proverb .f 

* Hengstenberg is right in his conclusion that for depth of 
religious knowledge Job stands even higher than Abraham, 
f This agrees with his description of himself. The trans- 
lation we follow throughout the discussion is that by Thom- 
as Wemyss. 

" Then Job continued his discourse, and said, 

' O that it were with me as in months that are past, 

In the days when God was my guardian! 

When his lamp shone over my head, 

And by his light I walked through darkness : 

As I was when in the prime of my life, 

When God guarded my tabernacle: 

W T hen my vigor was still in me, 

And my family were round about me : 

When streams of milk flowed where I went, 

And the rock poured me out rivers of oil : 

When I walked early through the city, 

And a seat was set for me in the streets. 

The young men saw me and made way for me; 

The aged ranged themselves around me. 

The rulers restrained themselves from talking, 

And laid their hand upon their mouth. 

The nobles observed silence, 

Their tongue cleaved to the roof of their mouth. 

When the ear heard me it blessed me; 

When the eye saw me it gave signs of approbation ; 



124 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

United with all this was a reputation he had gained 
which was worth more than his money, his flocks, 
his merchandise, and his princely authority. He was 
known, far and near, as a man of faultless integrity. 
He was pronounced by the Lord himself as " a per- 
fect and an upright man, one that feareth God and 
escheweth evil." 

Fori delivered the poor when they implored assistance, 
And the orphan who had no defender. 
The blessing of him who was perishing came upon me, 
And I caused the widow's heart to sing for joy. 
I put on equity, and clothed myself with it; 
My justice was as a robe and a diadem. 
I was eyes to the blind, 
I was feet to the lame ; 
I was a father to the destitute, 

And I inquired carefully into the cause of the stranger. 
I broke the jaws of the wicked, 
And plucked the prey out of his teeth. 
Then I said, I shall die in my nest, 
I shall multiply my days as the palm tree; 
My root shall spread out to the waters ; 
The dew of night shall repose on my branches; 
My glory shall be unfading around me, 
And my bow continue fresh in my hand.' 
" : To me men gave ear and attended ; 
They were silent at my admonition. 
After I had spoken they replied not, 
For my reasons dropped on them as dew. 
They waited for me as for a spring shower; 
They opened wide their mouths, as for the harvest-rain. 
If I smiled on them, they were gay, 
And rejoiced in my benignant aspect; 
If I frequented their society, I sat as a chief; 
I dwelt as a king among warriors, 
As one who comforteth the mourners.' " (Chap, xxix.) 



THE TRIUMPH. 1 25 

In a word, his was a life of unalloyed prosperity, 
faultless piety, and unquestioned rectitude : he was 
honored of men and approved of God. 

In the further development of the narrative, strange 
as it may seem, we are admitted for a moment behind 
the veil which conceals the ordinarily hidden arrange- 
ments and assignments of Providence, and are per- 
mitted to look in upon the private council-chamber of 
Jehovah, and to see for once what things are some- 
times said and done therein. Typical as well as actual 
is this entire drama, and every man is, more or less, 
first or last, enrolled to play some part.* 

The divine nature, and the evil nature, and human 
nature, are much the same to-day they were four 
thousand years ago. Temptations come to every 
heart in some form, and gigantic, though unestimated, 
are the issues pending. 

One entered that council-chamber, of whom the 
Lord inquired if he had seen, in his wanderings, that 
model of human excellence in the person of the Ara- 
bian Job. I He said he had, but added, in terms of 

* Other passages speak of the privy council of the Most 
High. Job xv. 8. Ps. lxxxix. 7. Jer. xxiii. 18. 1 Kings 
xxii. 19. Dan. vii. 9, 10. 

f The presence of Satan in heaven may at first glance ap- 
pear surprising, but not upon second thought. For if pre-ex- 
istent humanity, in which the Logos embodied itself long be- 
fore coming to earth (John vi. 62; iii. 13; xvii. 5), was a 
higher type of creation than the angels, and if Satan w r as of 
the highest order of angelic creation, then, when pre-exist- 
ing humanity came into being and was placed upon the 
throne, there was an occasion for the origin of pride, jealousy, 
and rebellion on the part of Satan. And when the command 



126 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

low insinuation, that this Job was serving God only 
upon the ground of some selfish policy. Job does not 

was given, " Let all the angels of God worship him" (Heb. 
i. 6), the spirit of rebellion might manifest itself in open 
revolt. His prestige was gone. He should have submit- 
ted to God's will, but did not; he rebelled. 

Of the fact of this rebellion there can be no question. (Rev. 
xii. 7.) The thought of war in heaven seems not quite compati- 
ble with the consistency of things. But wars have just as much 
right in a probationary heaven as on the earth; they have 
no right anywhere. An enlarged view of things will find not 
much inconsistency in having the proud and ambitious wars 
of earth prefigured by those of the spiritual world ages past. 
Also, when historic humanity was created in the person of 
Adam, there was another occasion for the further exercise of 
jealousy and malignity on the part of Satan and his minions. 
But probably he did not, at that time, descend to the lowest 
degradation, or possibly below recovery. He had lost rank 
by his first transgression, but not to such extent as to exclude 
him from heaven. He was held in respect by the angels. 
(Judec^.) It will, doubtless, some time be revealed, that God 
has been merciful to the fallen angels as well as to fallen hu- 
manity. May not Satan have been left for a time upon pro- 
bation? May not the opportunity for repentance given him 
have been like that given to mortals? There were elect 
(1 Tim. v. 21), why not non-elect angels? In this connec- 
tion, " the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world " is 
significant. (Rev. xiii. 8.) 

But when the historic God-man appeared, then the old 
spirit of rebellion, which first showed itself in heaven against 
the pre-existent spiritual God-man, rose to its height, and in 
that mad and reckless endeavor to tempt and destroy the Son 
of God (Matt. iv. 1-12), Satan forfeited all claims to mercy, 
and did irreparable damage to his moral character. That 
was an act of blasphemy. He then committed, as it seems 
to us, the unpardonable sin, and fell, as lightning, from 



THE TRIUMPH. 12^J 

serve God for nought, is the charge. It is profit Job is 
after. It is profit all your supposed good men are after. 
There is no reverence for God in all their show of piety. 
" You have blessed Job," Satan seems to say, " and he 
does well to serve you. Who would not? But it is 
merely hypocrisy. Job is saying, ' Lord ! Lord ! ' while 
his heart is far from thee. Strip him now of his splen- 
did round of prosperity with which you have hedged 
him in ; touch his money, then see if he cares for thee. 
He will no longer serve thee ; he will mock thee and 
curse thee to thy face." 

It is not a little surprising that Jehovah allowed such 
insolence in his presence ; but then we know he per- 
mitted similar real or apparent insults, twenty centu- 
ries later, in the wilderness.* On the judgment day 
it will be wise for the Judge to have a clear case 
against Satan. When we better know the purpose 
which all present transactions are to subserve in the 
universe, we can much better answer the many per- 
plexing quest, ons which almost daily confront us.f It 

heaven (Luke x. 18), never again to enter it. The heavens 
could well rejoice; the accuser had gone from their midst 
(Rev. xii. 10) ; and the earth might wail for the woe that his 
abiding presence brought upon it. (Rev. xii. 12.) He was 
left, henceforth, until the end at least, to fill his cup brim 
full of iniquity, in preparation for his final banishment into 
perdition. See Outlines of Christian Theology, by the Author. 

* Matt. iv. 3-10. Luke iv. 1-13. 

f Hengstenberg makes a good note upon this thought. 
"The question put by a savage, ' Why, then, does not God 
strike Satan dead?' could only have been retailed as appar- 
ently ingenious, by men who stood spiritually on a level 
with the savages. Satan is a very important element in the 



128 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

was this misrepresentation on the part of Satan which 
called forth from Jehovah the following language: 
" And the Lord said unto Satan, Behold, all that he 
hath is in thy power ; only upon himself put not forth 
thine hand. So Satan went forth from the presence 
of the Lord," — and the sun went down at high noon. 

While Job was in the height of 'his prosperity, 
while his sons and his daughters, according to an 
Eastern custom, were feasting at the elder brother's 
house, while the oxen were ploughing in the field, while 
the fiocks were pasturing on the hill-side, and while 
the camels were en route with this prosperous man's 
merchandise, — everything was changed in a day. So 
has it been, so is it, and so will it be again. Tears 
often flood the face almost before the smile of the last 
moment has gone, and we hear sobs almost before the 
echo of the laugh dies out from the adjacent hall. 

Why hastens that servant of Job across the fields ? 
Admit him ! " Sir ! " is his salutation. " Say on," 
is the reply. " The oxen were ploughing, and the 
asses feeding beside them, and the Sabeans fell upon 
them, and took them away ; yea, they have slain the 
servants with the edge of the sword ; and I only am 
escaped alone to tell thee." 

Hard times are these for a good man, with no reason 
this side of heaven assigned for it. This vast source 
of income cut off in a moment, must make even a 

divine economy. God needs him, and he therefore keeps 
him until he shall have no more use for him. Then will he 
be banished to his own place. The Scriptures call the wick- 
ed heathen tyrant Nebuchadnezzar a servant of God. They 
might give Satan the same name." 



THE TRIUMPH. x 20, 

rich man feel poor. The opulent prince is less rich 
than he was at daybreak. 

But why hastens homeward this other servant, 
even before the first had ceased speaking? Have 
the oxen and the flocks been recaptured from trjose 
lawless freebooters ? 

" Sir," is the salutation ; " Say on/' the reply. 

81 The fire of God is fallen from heaven, and hath 
burned up the sheep, and the servants, and consumed 
them ; and I only am escaped alone to tell thee." 

Surely evils never come single-handed. When it 
rains this kind of rain, it pours. It is ruin, not loss, 
which now glares into the face and eyes of the 
patriarch. 

But he has something left, and it is a long road 
that has no turn in it. The next servant will surely 
bring better tidings. 

Listen ! u While the last was yet speaking," we 
read, " there came also another, and said, The Chal- 
deans made out three bands, and fell upon the cam- 
els, and have carried them away, yea, and slain the 
servants with the edge of the sword ; and I only am 
escaped alone to tell thee." 

Fearful is this accumulation of ills ! Darker and 
thicker comes the night apace. He is land-poor ; 
having land, but no use for it. God pity the man 
who is rich and poor the same day ; who is full, at 
ease, one day, but filled with trouble the next ; who 
looks through golden avenues to-day, but to-morrow 
looks through avenues of red hot coals or gray ashes, 
or, what is worse, sees nought save a heaven and earth 
draped in weeds of mourning. It is the suddenness 

9 



I30 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

and the painful precision of such like things which 
give the shock. A single misfortune may come, as ac- 
cident (some think), or in the natural order of events 
(as others infer), but this, blow on blow, swift, sudden, 
terrible, and, in such graduated climax, anguish upon 
anguish, this smiting a man when he is down, — there 
is no accident in this ; intelligence, — malignant or 
otherwise, — intelligence is the moving hand ; designed 
visitations are there, and nothing other.* 

* Kitto makes the following note upon Satan's method in 
Job's afflictions : — 

" The apostle assumes that we are not ignorant of Satan's 
devices (2 Cor. ii. 11), and among the sources of our knowl- 
edge respecting them, the history of Job and his trials is most 
conspicuous. An attentive consideration of the whole matter, 
in that point of view, would be most instructive. To track his 
various windings, dodges, and manoeuvres for the purpose 
of circumventing Job, and of bringing peril upon his soul, 
might be made a study of surpassing interest and high edifi- 
cation. Look, for instance, at his penetrating knowledge of 
man's heart, and his masterly generalship in working upon 
it, as evinced in the mere ardor and succession of his as- 
saults upon Job. After having, as he supposed, weakened 
and dispirited this good man by his previous attacks, he 
came with his most fierce and terrible charge last of all, con- 
fident that by this management the last stroke must over- 
whelm and destroj' him. This seems to be a favorite tactic 
with him, to come down upon us with his strongest assaults 
when he thinks we are the weakest. It is easy to perceive 
that if Satan had suffered Job to hear first of the death of his 
children, all the rest would have been of small account to 
him. Little would he have cared for the loss of his cattle 
after having heard that all his children had been crushed to 
death by the fall of the house. As when some one great sor- 
row falls upon us, the heart can find no joy in the good that 



THE TRIUMPH. 131 

But still a man will endure many and severe losses 
in temporal things, bite his trembling lip, hold back 
his tears, force a smile, and stand erect, provided that 
he still has a happy and unbroken family circle to go 
to. It is the good home which affords the best an- 
chorage in storm time. Many a man has returned 
at nightfall, property gone, business disastrous ; but 
kneeling in prayer, he said, " Thank God, my wife and 
children are spared me." And he has encouraged 
them, and said, " Though we shall be a little pinched, 
still together we can build up again." 

Job's family was up to this time untouched ; he 
could bear much else and much more ; although that 
night would look upon a poor man, stripped of vast 
wealth, still he could sleep, for his children, of whom 
he was justly proud, were spared. 

But, what ! another messenger of ill ! It cannot 
be ; and yet, when things are going amiss, it seems as 
though there is no end or let up. " While the last was 
yet speaking," continues the narrative, " there came 
also another, and said, Thy sons and thy daughters 

at other times bestows delight, so also does one great evil 
swallow up all sense and feeling of lesser troubles. Here, 
therefore, we behold the wiliness of Satan. Lest Job should 
lose any of the smart of the lesser afflictions, lest they should 
all have been swallowed up iq the greater, he lays them out 
in order, the lesser first, the greater last, that his victims may 
not lose one drop of the bitterness in the cup mixed by the 
lord of poisons for him. It reminds one of the continental 
executions of great criminals in the last age, when the con- 
demned was tortured, maimed, and broken before the coup 
de grace was given. Had this stroke been given at first, all 
else had been nothing:." 



I32 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

were eating and drinking wine in their eldest brother's 
house : and behold there came a great wind from the 
wilderness, and smote the four corners of the house, 
and it fell upon the young men, and they are dead ; 
and I only am escaped alone to tell thee." 

Horrors and madness ! Who can believe that God 
takes care of his children after this? Welcome athe- 
ism and infidelity ! Why not? What good does it do 
to serve God and be honest, if such are the returns ? 
Who makes money in this world? — none but good 
men ? Nay, verily ! We should not wonder much if 
the godless man will make just as much money as the 
godly man, and hold it just as long. 

See this good man, stripped of property, bereft of 
children, blighted, ruined ! Shall he still believe in 
God? Will he not curse God and die? Hush! and 
hear what one of God's heroes can say : " Then Job 
arose, and rent his mantle, and shaved his head, and 
fell down upon the ground, and worshipped, and said, 
Naked came I out of my mother's womb, and naked 
shall I return thither : The Lord gave, and the Lord 
hath taken away ; blessed be the name of the Lord." 

The sublimest words of resignation that ever fell 
from the lips of mortal are these. And more than 
this, they announce to the world that the devil is con- 
quered at the hands of a man. Satan had thoroughly 
planned his campaign ; he had things pretty much his 
own way ; he made the onslaught with every advan- 
tage in his favor, but he met his match, received the 
worst hurt possible, and then retreated from the field, 
to try, if permitted, again. 

Returning once more to the narrative, we read, 



THE TRIUMPH. I33 

" Again there was a day when the sons of God came 
to present themselves before the Lord, and Satan 
came also among them to present himself before the 
Lord. And the Lord said unto Satan, From whence 
comest thou? And Satan answered the Lord, and 
said, From going to and fro in the earth, and from 
walking up and down in it. And the Lord said unto 
Satan, Hast thou considered my servant Job, that 
there is none like him in the earth, a perfect and an 
upright man, one that feareth God and escheweth 
evil? and still he holdeth fast his integrity, although 
thou movedst me against him, to destroy him with- 
out cause. And Satan answered the Lord, and said, 
Skin for skin, yea, all that a man hath will he give for 
his life. But put forth thy hand now, and touch his 
bone and his flesh, and he will curse thee to thy face. 
And the Lord said unto Satan, Behold, he is in thy 
hand ; but save his life." * 

A man may suffer much loss, yet if he has his 
health, he can recover much. Sound health is worth 
a fortune ; at least, many a man, who has it not, 
thinks so. 

But it turns out that he who had suffered enough 
to ruin most men was overtaken by a disease, the 
worst then or since known to mortals. It was a ter- 
rible type of the black leprosy of Syria. The ap- 
palling character of this malady is such as almost to 
preclude its description. It is a burning ulceration, 
covering the entire body. The hair falls off, the beard 
drops out, the eyelashes are lost, the eyes remain open 

* Job ii. 1-6. 



134 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

and fixed, the palms of the hands and soles of the feet 
swell out, and friends are compelled to fly from the 
sight of the victim. The mind of the sufferer is afford- 
ed only odd moments of sleep ; frightful dreams, de- 
spondency, and despair prompting to self-murder, are 
some of the attending symptoms. 

Satan's permission to attack the person of Job has 
resulted as we should expect. He selected the worst 
disease known, and wrought out its w r orst type. How 
much like the devil is such a course ! If a man falls 
into the hands of Satan, he may depend upon one 
thing at least — he will do his worst by him. 

Job's description of himself is graphic. " My flesh 
is clothed with worms and clods of dust, my skin is 
broken and become loathsome, and on my eyelids is 
the shadow of death. My bones are pierced in me in 
the night season, and my sinews take no rest. By the 
great force of my disease, my garments are changed. 
My skin is black upon me, and my bones are burned 
with heat. I am a brother to dragons and a compan- 
ion of owls. They that are younger than I have me in 
derision, whose fathers I would have disdained to have 
set with the dogs of my flock. They were viler than 
the earth. And now I am their song; yea, I am their 
by-word. They abhor me, they flee from me, and spare 
not to spit in my face. My acquaintance are verily es- 
tranged from me. My kinsfolk have foiled, and my 
familiar friends have forgotten me. They that dwell in 
my house, and my maids, count me for a stranger. I 
am an alien in their sight. I called my servant, and he 
gave me no answer ; I entreated him with my mouth. 
My breath is strange to my wife, though I entreated 



THE TRIUMPH. 135 

for the children's sake of mine own body. Yea, young 
children despised me ; I arose, and they spake against 
me. All my inward friends abhorred me ; and they 
whom I loved are turned against me. My bone cleav- 
eth to my skin and to my flesh, and I am escaped with 
the skin of my teeth. Have pity upon me, have pity 
upon me, O ye my friends, for the hand of God hath 
touched me." * 

Poor man, we pity thee, and would help thee if we 
could ; strange is it that God does not ! 

At this critical point in the narrative, a new charac- 
ter is introduced — Job's wife. It seems strange that 
Satan had not destroyed her with the children ; but 
perhaps he had some design in not doing so. He 
may have thought to use this woman as an instrument 
in accomplishing his ultimate purposes. He hoped, 
no doubt, that she w^ould prove another Eve. 

It is possible that more than one very good man has 
had a very bad wife: but that proves nothing in the 
present instance. Job's wife, we think, ought not to be 
blamed overmuch/)* She showed some weakness in 
those seasons of affliction, and who would not? 

Look charitably at the case for a moment. The 
losses, we must bear in mind, were hers, as well as 
his. The property w T as gone ; the manly eldest born, 
and the tender younger born, had fallen ; and her 
husband was almost worse than dead. These griefs 

* For fuller description consult Job ii. 7, 8; Hi. 23-26; vi. 
8-10; vii. 4, 5, 13-16: xix. 16-21; xxx. 17-31. 

f Spanheim calls Job's wife a second Xantippe. J. D. 
Michaelis thinks she was spared to Job to complete the meas- 
ure of his misfortune. 



I36 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

and calamities were hers to bear, as well as his. The 
woman was bewildered, and no wonder. Will not a 
wife sometimes allow her own name to be slandered, 
rather than suffer her husband to bear reproach? 

Stripped of his fortune, his children, for whom he 
had never forgotten to offer God a morning sacrifice, 
buried amid the ruins of their own dwelling, which the 
fierce tornado had levelled to the ground, " the best 
man in the world becoming the most miserable man 
in the world," presents a gloomy enough picture. 
His wife felt this. Can we blame her that the cloud 
of infidelity dimmed her eyesight for a moment? 

Ay, who is the Almighty, that one should serve him, 
or what profit is there if we pray unto him ? Do not 
the words almost rise to our own lips, as they must 
have weighed upon her consciousness? Could this 
series of evils happen without the will and pleas- 
ure of God? Could not he have prevented them? 
Would not the woman almost escape our condem- 
nation, should she be left to say, What does integrity 
amount to ? Does righteousness protect a man against 
life's ills? Why does it not protect you, my husband? 
They lie who say your life is not next to perfect. 
You are a just and perfect man. If God lives, and 
loves goodness and integrity better than vice and in- 
iquity, why steps he not forth to your rescue? There 
is no God save Fate ; and Fate is no God. 

It was this overwhelming pressure upon the afflicted 
woman which left her crushed-hearted, and which 
well nigh drove her on to madness. Her advice was 
terrible, but it does not prove that she was a shrew. 
Satan seems to have taken possession for a moment, 



THE TRIUMPH. I37 

and prompted her to tempt Job with the very words 
he had predicted Job w T ould employ when afflicted. 
" He will curse thee to thy face," said Satan. " Curse 
God and die," said his wife.* 

Job, do you hear ! The universe listens to catch 
your answer. It breathlessly awaits the vital issue 
pending. You are a spectacle for the angels to look 
at. God's credit is staked upon what you say and do. 

Smarting under his accumulation of woes, his soul 
wrung with anguish, his face haggard with frightful 
anxiety, and ghastly under a wasting disease, pale, 
trembling, and almost hideous, he rose, rent his man- 
tle, and replied to his wife's temptation, — " Shall we 
receive good at the hand of God, and shall we not 
receive evil?" 

Splendid, thou earth-born giant ! A gala day was 
that in heaven. The sons of God everywhere 
shouted for joy over the moral grandeur of this 
conquest. It was proved, on that day, that goodness 
can exist in this world, — the devil to the contrary, 
notwithstanding, — irrespective of earthly reward, and 
that man can fear and love God, when every induce- 
ment to selfishness is taken away. That is a victory, 
such, doubtless, as God would have every one achieve. 

The narrative next brings to our notice other char- 

* There seems to be some little confusion resulting from 
the different translations of the word baracJi ; "to bless" 
and " to curse " are both given by commentators. The pres- 
ent connection demands the latter, though usage perhaps 
equally justifies the former rendering. It involves, probably, 
in either case, a kind of parting salutation, as if she had said, 
God can do nothing for you. Bid him a farewell that will 
last forever. 



I38 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

acters — the personal friends of Job. Their introduc- 
tion to us is very beautiful. There is in it a kind of 
poetic and majestic tenderness. 

" Now, when Job's three friends heard of all this 
evil that was come upon him, they came every one 
from his own place ; Eliphaz the Temanite, and Bil- 
dad the Shuhite, and Zophar the Naamathite : for 
they had made an appointment together to come to 
mourn with him and. to comfort him. And when 
they lifted up their eyes afar off, and knew him 
not, they lifted up their voice, and wept ; and they 
rent every one his mantle, and sprinkled dust upon 
their heads toward heaven. So they sat down with 
him upon the ground, seven days and seven nighta, 
and none spake a word unto him : for they saw that 
his grief was very great." * 

Silence is indeed much better sometimes than spo- 
ken consolation. Job's friends were wise, knowing 
this fact, to act in the present instance accordingly. 
But their countenances, nevertheless, were expressive, 
and spoke a kind of language well known to Job. 
Often this language of the face is by far the loudest. 

Day after day, these princes and friends of Job kept 
more or less near the afflicted man, and at such times 
as the taking of food, rest, and sleep allowed, they, con- 
tinued revolving in mind his misfortunes, investigating 
the causes producing them, and deciding upon the forms 
of speech with which they would address him. 

tfc Silence is a God," said the ancients, and terrible 
was it for Job to remain so long in his presence. The 
distressed features of his friends, their gestures, and 

9 

* Job ii. n-13. 



THE TRIUMPH. 



l 39 



their glances, were interpreted by Job as having a sig- 
nificance greater by far than was meant ; but they 
meant full enough. 

Unable to endure their silence longer, he broke it, 
and gave expression to the agony torturing him, in 
terms startling and passionate.* He execrated the 
day of his birth, and, in almost tragic interrogation, 
asked why Providence had not done otherwise.! 



* The following synopsis of the book of Job may be of 
service, especially in referring to the different addresses em- 
ployed : — 















Chapters 


Introductory 


narr 


ative, 


. 


. 


. I, 2 


Job's lament, 










3 


First controv 


ersy 


between Eliphaz 


and Job, 


. 4-7 


u 


a 




i< 


Bildad 


a 


8— io 


a 


a 




a 


Zophar 


a 


. ii— 14 


Second 


a 




a 


Eliphaz 


n 


15-17 


it 


a 




tt 


Bildad 


a 


. 18—19 


u 


a 




tt 


Zophar 


tt 


20—21 


Third 


tt 




it 


Eliphaz 


a 


. 22 — 24 


K 


a 




a 


Bildad 


a 


25—26 


a 


a 




a 


Zophar 


tt 


. 27—30 


Elihu's 


address to 


Job, 


. 


. 


3i—37 


Jehovah 


's 


a 




. 


. 


38-41 


Conclusion, 










42 



f " Perish the day in which I was born, 
And the night when they said, A man-child is brought 

forth. 
O let that day be darkness ! 
May God from above never regard it; 
Yea. let no sunshine come upon it. 
Let darkness and the shadow of death cover it; 
Let a spreading cloud hover over it; 
Let it be frightened at its own deformity. 



I40 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

Of the three friends, Eliphaz the Temanite is the 
eldest, and the first to speak. His introductory address 
is marked with comparative self-restraint and mild- 
ness. He is, in this speech, a good representative of 
the true patriarchal chieftain, respectful, considerate, 

"That night— -let thick darkness seize it; 
Let it not be joined to the days of the year, 
Nor enter into the number of the months. 
That night — may it be as a solitary rock; 
Let no voice of joy ever come upon it! 
Let the sorcerers of the day curse it, 
Who are expert in conjuring up Leviathan. 
Let the stars of its twilight be extinguished; 
Let it long for light, but never reach it; 
Let it never see the eyelids of the dawn : 
Because it closed not the doors of the womb to me, 
Nor shut out sorrow from mine eyes ; 
Or like an untimely birth I had perished, 
Like abortions which never saw the light. 

" O why did I not expire in the womb ; 
Why not perish in passing from the bowels? 
Why was I received on the knees; 
Why have I sucked the breasts? 
I might now have lain still, and been quiet; 
I might have gone to sleep, and been at rest, 
Among the monarchs and despots of the earth, 
Who built solitary mansions for themselves; 
Or among chiefs, who abounded in gold, 
Who glutted their storehouse with silver. 
There the wicked cease to be a terror, 
There the wearied are at rest. 
The enslaved rest securely together, 
They hear no more the taskmaster's voice. 
There the small and the great are the same; 
The slave is on a level with his dreaded lord. 

" Why is light given to the wretched, 



THE TRIUMPH. 141 

and dignified, yet with a slight tinge of censure, on 
account of the supposed sins of his friend. 

But, as the controversy continued, he became ex- 
tremely sophistical, and painfully severe, especially in 

And life to the bitter in soul? 

Who long for death, but find it not; 

Who dig for it more than for hidden treasures ; 

Who rejoice even to exultation, 

And triumph when they find the grave. 

For God hath shut out death from a man, 

To whom it would have been a repose. 

For my groans anticipate my food, 

My lamentations burst forth like a torrent. 

For the terror which I dreaded has come upon me ; 

That which I feared has befallen me. 

I have no tranquillity — I have no peace — 

I have no rest — I am grievously distressed." 

(Chap. iii. Wemyss* translation.) 

Compare Jeremiah (xx. 14-18), Blayney's version : — 

" Cursed be the day on which I was born : 
The day on which my mother bare me, let it not be 

blessed. 
Cursed be the man who brought the news to my father, 
Saying, There is a male child born to thee, 
Making him exceedingly glad. 
And let the man be as the cities 
Which Jehovah overthrew, and repented not; 
Even hearing an outcry in the morning, 
And an alarm at the time of noon. 
Who did not slay me from the womb, 
So that my mother might have been my grave, 
Even the womb of her that conceived me, forever. 
Wherefore came I forth from the womb, 
To experience disquietude and sorrow, 
And that my days should be spent in shame?" 



I42 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

his reference to the melancholy circumstances attending 
the loss of Job's children. And, towards the last, this 
pious friend insisted with almost furious harshness that 
these afflictions cannot be other than a just punish- 
ment for some secret sin of which Job had been guilty. 

Eliphaz, like others aforetime, and some in after- 
time, is mild, except in religious matters ; but the 
crossing of his theological track was the signal for the 
appearance of a fiery zeal, which is often most violent 
in its persecutions. Some men would do quite well 
but for their religion. 

Bildad the Shuhite is the second friend mentioned. 
From the start he attacked Job with keenness sharper 
than that of Eliphaz. He is eloquent and tragic ; in 
a few passages, his descriptions are wrought up to the 
highest pitch of terror. He is less original than Eli- 
phaz, and far less delicate. His expressions are often 
needlessly provoking and tantalizing. At times his 
charges upon Job are furious and awful. 

Zophar, the third friend, presents strange diversities 
of character. He appears, at times, to be well nigh 
destitute of good sense, and mindless as to the propri- 
ety of things. He appears to delight in pointing out 
the effect of disease upon Job's countenance, which 
was needless and invidious. 

On the other hand, his discourses upon the divine 
attributes are masterpieces of the grand and sublime. 
The vividness, too, with which the regulating and 
controlling hand of Providence in the affairs of men 
is depicted has rarely been equalled. He touched, 
however, upon nothing which had not been presented 
by the others. Taking his direction from Eliphaz 



THE TRIUMPH. 1 43 

chiefly, he was prepared, by what preceded, to pester 
his friend without mercy. He is the representative 
of a prejudiced, and, in some respects, narrow-minded 
bigot. He is an inveterate accuser. He repeated and 
exaggerated to the extreme what the others had said. 
At certain points, he seems cold, cruel, and heartless. 
It is not intended, doubtless, but is based upon misap- 
prehension and mistaken zeal. The zeal of Zophar 
for the truth of God was indeed very great, for which, 
however, he got no thanks. God wants something 
besides zeal in his service.* 

It was the very well-meant but wretched consolation 
of these men which put Job to the severest test. No 
other affliction seems to have equalled this. The friends 
meant well enough, like others, but, like others, w 7 ere 
deluded. Their bad theology got the better of both 
their heads and hearts, and led them into mistakes 
which were well nigh the ruin of the man whom they 
had come to console. Not until the arrival of these 
friends was Job's self-composure, which had hitherto 
. successfully withstood every kind of assault made 
upon it, in the least disturbed. There were heard no 
complaints of injustice ; there were no questionings 
respecting the ways of Providence before this ; but 
sick in body and sick in mind, and then presented by 
his friends with a cast-iron creed, and condemned be- 
cause he would not accept and self-apply it, he was 
betrayed into saying some things which, it is true, had 
much better been left unsaid. 

The creed of these Arabian princes was in their 
time general and popular. The Jewish people after- 

* Psalms lxix. 9. John ii. 17. 



144 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

wards adopted it. Job himself had held and taught 
it. And it is a little singular, even in our day, not- 
withstanding the light with which Christianity has 
flooded this world, that not a few rise up as its advo- 
cates. Certain positions in this creed are the follow- 
ing : There is an exact and uniform correspondence 
between sin and its punishment. Afflictions come 
because men have sinned. Misery always implies 
guilt. There is righteous retribution in this life, 
ounce for ounce ; so much goodness, then so much 
happiness ; so much sin, so much suffering. 

Each of the friends, in turn, reiterated these points. 
Eliphaz introduced them, and made an implied ap- 
plication to Job. 

" Remember, I pray thee, who ever perished, being 
innocent? or where were the righteous cut off ? Even 
as I have seen, they that plough iniquity, and sow 
wickedness, reap the same. By the blast of God they 
perish, and by the breath of his nostrils are they con- 
sumed." (Chap. iv. 7""9») 

" I have seen the foolish taking root : but suddenly 
I cursed his habitation. His children are far from 
safety, and they are crushed in the gate, neither is 
there any to deliver them ; whose harvest the hungry 
eateth up, and taketh it even out of the thorns, and 
the robber swalloweth up their substance. Affliction 
cometh not forth of the dust, neither doth trouble 
spring out of the ground." * (Chap. v. 3-6.) 

* The following is Bildad's statement of the creed, and its 
application to Job, by implication at least: — 

" Examine, I pray thee, former generations; 
Inform thyself of the wisdom of their ancestors : 



THE TRIUMPH. 145 

Job, in the mean time, had confessed his common 
human frailty ; but that these dire misfortunes had 
come upon him in consequence of his sin, — he knew 
better. He repelled their insinuations with indigna- 

(For we are but of yesterday, and have no experience; 
Our days on the earth are but a shadow.) 
Shall they not teach thee and instruct thee, 
And from the heart utter maxims like these? — 

" * Can the papyrus grow without water? 
Can the bulrush grow without moisture? 
While it is yet shooting, it languishes, 
And withers before it has perfected its -herbage: 
Such are the paths of all that forget God; 
So perisheth the hope of the profligate.' 

" Lo ! such is the catastrophe of the wicked, 
And others shall arise in his place. 
But God will not reject the upright, 
Nor will he strengthen the hands of evil-doers. 
Even yet he may fill thy mouth with laughter, 
And thy lips with merriment. 
Thine enemies shall be clothed with shame, 
And the dwelling of the wicked shall come to nought." 

(viii. 8-14, 19-22.) 

Zophar expands and insinuates, but adds nothing new. 
" Ha! knowest thou not this — from of old, 
Since the time when man was placed upon the earth — 
That the triumph of the wicked is soon over, 
And the joy of the impious is but for a moment? 
Though his pride should mount up to heaven, 
And his head reach to the clouds; 
Even amidst his splendor he shall perish forever: 
Those who once knew him shall say, ' Where is he?' 
He shall disappear as a dream that cannot be traced; 
He shall vanish like a spectre in the night. 
The eye that caught a glance at him shall see him no more ; 
IO 



I46 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

tion. Their charges rolled past him as dismal mock- 
ery. Do you suppose, he seems to say, that I will 
acknowledge sins which I have not committed ? Away 
with you and your creed ! 

His place shall no more behold him. 

His children shall be reduced to beggary, 

And constrained to restore that which he had seized. 

His bones shall be filled with secret lusts; 

He shall lie down in the dust with his sins. 

" Though wickedness was sweet to his taste, 
Though it was hid under his tongue, 
Though he indulged it, and would not give it up, 
But would retain it still in his palate, 
His food shall be changed in his bowels, 
To the gall of asps in his stomach. 
He shall vomit the wealth which he devoured; 
God shall expel it from his bowels. 
He shall suck the poison of asps; 
The tongue of the viper shall destroy him. 
He shall no more behold the brooks, 
The streams flowing with milk and honey. 
What he seized he shall restore without reservation, 
Nor shall he enjoy the wealth he had acquired. 

''Because he oppressed the orphans of the poor, 
And pulled down houses which he had not built; 
Because his appetite could not be satisfied, 
Nor did he refuse anything to his lusts; 
He set no bounds to his voracity; 
Therefore his happiness shall not be permanent. 
Amidst the fulness of his tyranny he shall be in straits; 
All manner of distress shall come upon him. 
Even when his appetite is satiated, 
God shall send on him the fury of his wrath, 
And rain it upon him while he is eating. 
Should he flee from the iron weapon, 
The bow of brass shall strike him through ; 



THE TRIUMPH. I47 

Job acknowledged that, sooner or later, the wicked 
are brought to justice, but insisted, nevertheless, with- 
out qualification, that m the short run, at least, there 
is not, in this life, anything like a just distribution of 
rewards and punishments.* 

The arrow shall pierce through his body, 

The glittering shaft through his gall. 

He shall die, oppressed with terrors ; 

Calamities of all kinds are treasured up for him. 

A fire unblown shall consume him ; 

Wkat remained in his tent shall be destroyed. 

The heaven shall reveal his iniquity, 

The earth shall rise up against him. 

The increase of his house shall roll away, 

Like torrents, in the day of indignation. 

Such is the portion of the wicked from God, 

And such his heritage from the Deity." (xx. 4-30.) 

* "It is a singular thing, that I should come to this 

conclusion, » 
'That God punishes alike the innocent and guilty.' 
Though he slays fools with his scourge, 
He also smiles at the calamities of the just. 
He abandons a land to the violence of the wicked; 
The face of their judges is hoodwinked, 
That they turn not to say, Who has done this?" 

(ix. 22-24.) 
"The tents of plunderers are secure; 
Secure are the abodes of them who provoke God, 
Whose power is to them instead of a God. 
. But now, inquire of the beasts, and they will teach you, 
And the fowls of the air, and they will explain to you, 
And the shrubs of the earth, and they will show you, 
And the fishes of the sea will declare it to you : 
Who amongst all these does not know, 
That all things are arranged by the power of God? 



I48 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

Failing to convince Job of the unqualified truth of 
their creed, and not succeeding, through these gentler 
methods, in drawing out from the patriarch confes- 
sions of personal guilt, these friends proceeded to 
make their own application, and charged no longer 
by insinuation, but directly and furiously, upon Job 
all the iniquity which his aggravated afflictions, ac- 
cording to their views, demanded. 

They began by strongly hinting that it was probable 
that enormous secret guilt lay at the bottom of these 
sufferings ; they then advanced farther and farther, in- 
quisitor-like, until at length they told him that they 
believed his life had been hypocritical and iniquitous. 

In whose hand is the soul of every living creature, 
And the breath of all mankind. " (xii. 6-10.) 

" Why do the impious live happy, 
Grow old, and abound in wealth?. 
Their offspring are established before them, 
And their posterity before their eyes. 
Their houses are safe from fear ; 
They are not scourged with the Divine rod. 
Their cattle are fruitful and active ; 
Their kine bring forth, and do not cast their young. 
They send forth their little ones like a flock, 
And their children leap for joy. 
They rise up to the tabor and harp, 
They trip merrily to the sound of the pipe. 
They pass their life happily, 
And descend quietly to the tomb. 
Though they had said to God, 'Depart from us, 
We desire not the knowledge of thy ways ! 
Who is the Almighty, that we should worship him? 
And what avails it to address him in prayer?' 
Lo, such do not enjoy constant happiness." (xxi. 7-16.) 



THE TRIUMPH. 149 

They accused him with meriting to the full extent, and 
more than meriting, the misfortunes he bore. They 
looked upon him as a blasphemer, gazing upon him, 
at times, with something akin to awe and terror. 

How could they do less? To give up their splendid 
system of theology, they could not. Calamities are 
the fruit of sin, they reiterated. " You are suffering 
calamities ; therefore you are a sinner. Terrible ca- 
lamities are the fruit of terrible sin ; you are suf- 
fering terrible calamities, therefore you are a terrible 
sinner." * 

* As specimens of these accusations are the following: — 
"Then Eliphaz the Temanite again took up the dis- 
course : 
6 Does it become a wise man to give unsolid answers, 
And to swell his breast with the east wind? 
To refute arguments by proving nothing, 
And to use unprofitable words? 
Thou thyself castest off piety, 
And weakenest prayers directed to God. 
Thine own words show thine iniquity, 
Though thou usest the tongue of the crafty. 
Thine own mouth condemns thee, not 1 5 
Thine own lips testify against thee. 
Wert thou the first man that was born? 
Wert thou formed before the mountains? 
Hast thou listened in the privy council of God, 
And drawn away wisdom to thyself? 
What knowest thou, that we know not? 
Or understandest thou, of which we are ignorant? 
The hoary-headed and the ancient are among us, 
More venerable for years than thy father. 
Dost thou undervalue the Divine consolations, 
Or the addresses of kindness to thyself? 
To what pitch of boldness would thy heart carry thee — 



I50 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

They really knew no actual evil in Job, but they 
thought there must be. To make good their opinion, 
and support their pet theories, they converted conjec- 
ture into certainty. " Of course he has committed 

At what have thine eyes taken aim — 

That thou shouldst let loose thy mind against God, 

And cast forth such words from thy mouth? 

Where is the man who is pure, 

The offspring of woman who is blameless? 

Behold, in his holy ones he cannot place confidence, 

The heavens are not clean in his sight. 

How abominable and impure then must man be, 

Who drinketh iniquity like water! 

81 ' Listen to me,' and I will tell thee — 
What I have seen, I will relate; 
Which sages have proclaimed, 
As a matter known in the time of their ancestors, 
To whom alone the land was given, 
When no stranger had come amongst them : — 

" * All the days of the wicked he is his own tormentor, 
And a reckoning of years is laid up for the violent. 
A sound of alarm rings in his ears; 
Even in peace the despoiler invades him. 
He cannot hope to escape from darkness; 
Even from the lurking-place the sword awaits him. 
He wanders about, and becomes the prey of vultures; 
He knows the evil day is prepared for him. 
Distress and danger dismay him; 
They oppress him like a tyrant. 
He is destined to the heaviest sufferings, 
Because he stretched forth his hand against God, 
And acted haughtily towards the Almighty. 
God shall press upon him with extended neck, 
Through the mailed bosses of his own buckler. 
Though his face be enveloped with fat, 
Though he heaped up fat on his loins, 



THE TRIUMPH. 151 

sin," they said. " Of course, of course." These 
opinions they felt they must cling to, though the heav- 
ens fall. To defend them they exhausted their stores 
of rhetoric ; they alternated between irony, sarcasm, 

Yet in desolate cities he shall dwell ; 

Houses to be deserted by him, 

Which are destined to be reduced to ashes. 

He shall not grow rich, nor have permanent wealth, 

Nor shall he be master of his own desires. 

He shall not escape from darkness; 

The lightning shall wither his green shoots; 

He shall be carried away by a wind sent from above. 

Let him not trust to his own prosperity; 

An unhappy change shall take place in his affairs: 

Before his season it shall be accomplished, 

Nor shall his branch flourish. 

He shall cast his unripe Fruit like the vine, 

And shall shed his blossoms like the olive. 

The house of the wicked shall be a barren rock; 

Fire shall consume the tents of the ungodly. 

Pregnant with mischief, they bring forth crime, 

And carry deceit in their womb.' " (xv. I-35.) 

"Is not thy wickedness sufficiently great? 
Yea, there is no bound to thine iniquities. 
Thou hast unjustly taken a pledge from thy brethren, 
Thou hast stripped the destitute of their garments. 
Thou hast not refreshed with water the weary, 
Thou hast refused bread to the hungry. 
Thou hast suffered the man of power to seize the land, 
And the man of authority to take possession of it. 
Thou hast sent widows empty away, 
And hast bruised the orphans' arms. 
Therefore thou art surrounded with snares, 
And sudden ruin alarms thee. 
Thy light is changed into darkness, 
And a flood of waters covers thee. 



152 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

and crimination ; they appealed to experience and 
antiquity ; they explored all the wealth of Arabian 
wisdom, employing trite maxims and sage sentences, 

Truly, God is higher than the heavens, 

And sees the topmost stars, however lofty : 

How then dost thou say, ' Can God know? 

Can he discern those things which are transacted in 

darkness? 
Thick clouds enclose him, that he cannot see; 
He walks on the convexity of the heavens.' 

" Hast thou observed the ancient tract, 
Which was trodden by wicked mortals ; 
Who perished by a sudden death, 
Whose foundation is a molten flood? 
Who said to God, ' Depart from us, — 
What can the Almighty do to us?' 
Though he had filled their houses with wealth. 
(Far from me be their wicked conduct!) 
The righteous beheld and rejoiced ; 
The innocent derided them, saying, 
' Surely their substance was carried away, 
And a fire consumed their riches.' 

" Turn therefore to Him, and be an upright man; 
So shalt thou have abundant produce. 
Receive the law from his mouth, 
And store up his sayings in thy mind. 
If thou return to the Almighty, thou shalt be restored, 
If thou put away all iniquity from thy tent." 

(xxii. 5-23.) 

"Then Bildad of Shuah interposed and said: 
* How long wilt thou utter such things, 
And thy sayings burst forth like an impetuous wind? 
Will God pervert justice? 

Will the Almighty pass an unrighteous judgment? 
If thy children have sinned against him, 
He hath cast them off on account of their transgressions. 



THE TRIUMPH. 1 53 

adorning them with the aptest and most beautiful met- 
aphor and poetry. 
Job, on the other hand, continued to repel their 

If thou wouldst seek betimes unto God, 

And make thy supplication to the Almighty, 

Provided thou wert just and upright, 

Even yet he would rise up for thee, 

And prosper the abode of thine integrity; 

And though thy beginning were small, 

Thy latter end would be very prosperous." (viii. 1-7.) 

<k How long will ye discourse captiously? 
Be temperate; and then let us speak. 
Why dost thou regard us as brutes? 
Why should we appear contemptible before thee? 
Thou tearest thyself in thy fury : 
Shall the earth be deserted for thee? 
Shall the rocks be removed from their place? 
The light of the wicked shall be extinguished; 
The flame of his fire shall not shine. 
Daylight shall be darkness in his tent; 
His lamp shall be extinguished over him. 
The steps of his strength shall be straitened, 
His own counsel shall subvert him. 
He is caught by the feet in a pitfall; 
Perfidious snares encompass him. 
The trap shall lay hold of his heel, 
It shall fasten thoroughly upon him. 
A cord is hid for him in the ground, 
And a gin under his path. 
Terrors await him on all sides, 
They force him to retrace his steps. 
His strength shall be enfeebled by hunger, 
Destruction shall march at his sfde. 
The first-born of death shall devour his skin, 
It shall greedily feed on his members. 



154 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

charges ; he answered back by appealing to history 
and experience ; he argued his case vehemently ; he 
chastised his opponents with keen irony (xii. 2) ? then 

Confidence shall be expelled from his dwelling, 
Terror shall seize him as a king. 
It will make its abode in his tent, 
* Nor shall anything be left there. 

Sulphur shall be rained upon his dwelling. 

Below, his roots shall be dried up; 

Above, his branches shall be withered. - 

His memory shall be effaced from the land, 

And no trace of him found among foreigners. 

They shall drive him from daylight into darkness, 

And hunt him out of the world. 

He shall have neither son nor kinsman amongst his 

people, 
Nor any one remaining amongst his possessions. 
The west shall be astonished at his end, 
The east shall be panic-struck. 
Such are the dwellings of the impious man ; 
Such the state of him who despises God." (xviii. 1-21.) 
"Then Zophar the Naamathite answered in these 

terms : 
' He who speaketh much should be replied to, 
Otherwise the talkative man would appear to be right. 
If others heard thy boasting in silence, 
Thou mightest mock on without contradiction. 
Thou sayest, "My conscience is clear, 
And I am pure in thine eyes," (addressing God.) 
I wish God would indeed speak to thee, 
And open his lips against thee; 

That he would unfold to thee the secrets of wisdom : 
Then wouldst thou have double reason to remain tranquil ; 
Then thou wouldst know that God hath forborne 
A portion of the chastisement thou deservest.' " 

(xi. 1-6.) 



THE TRIUMPH. 155 

implored their pity, and then declared his freedom 
from all intentional sin, in language both singularly 
beautiful and impressive.* 

* u l Doth not the Eternal see my ways, 
And number all my footsteps? 

" * If I have acted fraudulently, 
And my foot hath hastened to dishonesty, 
Let me be weighed in a just balance, 
That God may know mine integrity. 
If my step hath turned out of the way, 
And my heart gone astray after mine eyes, 
If any bribe hath cleaved to my hands, 
Then let me sow, and let another eat; 
Let another root out what I have planted. 

" \ If my heart hath been enticed to a married woman, 
Or I have lain in wait at my neighbor's door, 
Then let my wife gratify another, 
And let others bow down upon her. 
For this is the basest wickedness, 
And a crime to be punished by the Judge. 
It is a fire consuming to destruction ; 
It would root out all mine increase. 

" 'If I denied justice to my man-servant, 
Or to my maid-servant, when they disputed with me-^ 
What then shall I do, when God maketh inquest! ? 
When he inquires, what answer should I make? 
Did not He who formed me form them? 
Were we not fashioned alike in the womb? 

" ' If I withheld from the poor what they asl^ed, 
Or have grieved the eyes of the widow, 
Or have eaten my morsel alone, 
And the orphan hath not partaken with me^ 
(Whereas from my youth I nourished them as a father, 
And was the widow's guide from my earliest years) — 
If I have seen any perish for want of clothing, 
Or any poor man without raiment; 



156 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

Thus this controversial football flew backward and 
forward. "These ten times," exclaimed the patriarch, 
" these ten times have ye reproached me." No wonder 

If his loins have not blessed me, 

Nor himself been warmed with the wool. of my sheep; 

If I have raised a hand against the orphan, 

Because I saw I had authority in the gate — 

May my shoulder-bone be dislocated, 

And my arm be broken at the elbow ! 

No ! — the fear of God's judgments overawed me ; 

I could do nothing before his majesty. 

" ' If I have made gold my reliance, 
And have said to fine gold, " Thou art my trust; " 
If I exulted when my wealth was great, 
When my hand found vast riches; 

" ' If my own land exclaim against me ; 
If its furrows make complaint; 
If I have consumed its produce without wages, 
Or have deprived my hirelings of their reward, — 
Let my land produce thistles instead of wheat, 
And poisonous weeds instead of barley. 

" ' If I have looked at the sun when he shone, 
Or the moon, advancing in brightness; 
And my heart has been secretly enticed, 
And my hand has borne a kiss to my mouth — 
This would have been a crime deserving to be judged, 
For I should have denied the Supreme God. 

" ' If I have triumphed in the destruction of my enemy, 
Or leaped with joy when harm befell him, 
(Whereas I suffered not my mouth to sin, 
By imprecating evil upon him) — 

" * If my /domestics were not wont to say, 
." Who is there that hath not been rilled with his dainties?" 
The stranger lodged not in the street; 
My door was open to every comer. 

" ' If, human-like, I concealed my sin ? 



THE TRIUMPH. 1 57 

that during this encounter, he was occasionally exas- 
perated. Singular is it that these friends, who had 
come to offer consolation, were comforters (" miserable 
comforters are ye all"), worse, ten times over, than 
the black leprosy ; worse, in fact, than the devil had 
been, and a much greater trial. 

A greater trial than the devil had been, did we say? 
Nay, Satan was personally in this last affliction, like- 
wise. No more visible is his trail in the losses and 
sickness of Job, than in this visit of these pious but 
deluded friends. The narrative, it is true, leaves us 
to infer his presence. But he is the inveterate ac- 
cuser of every afflicted one.* There is no calamity 
on earth where he, or some of his minions, are not 
present. God permits, but the devil deals the blow 
and God heals the wound, and brings good out of it, 
are the lessons of Job's life, and of every life. 

And hid mj r transgression in my bosom, 
Let me be confounded before the multitude; 
Let me be covered with public contempt; 
Let me be dumb, nor dare to go abroad. 

" ' O that God would deign to hear me! 
This is my declaration — let the Almighty reply to it! 
Let my opponent write down the charge : 
Surely I would wear it on my shoulder; 
I would bind it round me like a diadem; 
I would disclose to him the number of my steps ; 
I would approach him with the boldness of a prince.' 
Thus far are the discourses of Job." (xxx. 4-40.) 

* The word by which Satan is here designated signifies 
the Troubler ; and Job, Hiob, signifies the Much Persecuted. 
We may note also that Satan is adroit, often putting an an- 
gel of light in his place to do his work. In general, he does 
his n\eanest work by proxy. (Gen. iii. 1-6.) 



I58 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

In some countries the judge delivers his severest 
sentence with a curtain drawn between his face and 
that of the condemned. In the most terrific struggle 
which God's children encounter, no hand or foot is 
visible ; friends may be near ; surroundings may be 
sunlit, but the encounter is within the soul ; it is a 
silent but awful war which there rages. Many were 
the afflictions of the patriarch, and skilful was the 
master of such tactics, who brought these fierce bat- 
talions against him. 

When Job was w T ounded as a deer in the chase, 
when he was worn down and almost worn out with 
pain, — sick as he could be and live, — it was that 
malignant troubler whose hand smote him. 

When harassed with his own doubts, his brain in a 
perpetual craze, and his soul whelmed in that mystery 
which multiplies dangers and magnifies distress by as 
much as the cause is unknown, — as the hand which 
wrote before Belshazzar was terrible because it was 
naked and had no body, —yes, in that hour it was 
this same satanic troubler who plunged the patriarch 
into the horrors of nightmare and delirium, this black- 
ness of darkness. 

And when these Arabian friends touched him in 
the most sensitive spot ;" when they attacked his in- 
tegrity and good name, upon which, life-long, he 
had prided himself; when they piled their solemn 
and pious falsehoods up against him, mountain high ; 
when he was assaulted as a sinner of blackest heart, 
pronounced an extortioner and a scourger of poor 
people, a pretended saint, but a skilled hypocrite, and 
an enemy of Jehovah, — in this hardest encounter of 



THE TRIUMPH. 1 59 

all, when God seemed to say, " This is your hour, and 
the power of darkness," then, too, it was this same in- 
fernal troubler who was permitted to give points and 
barbs, destitute of all feeling and pity, to those fiery 
darts which entered the soul of the " much troubled" 
and to those rebukes which were none the less distract- 
ing because uttered with pious and religious intention. 
Satan did his worst. Death would have been relief. 
Infidelity began to raise its towering structure. No 
wonder that Job's human nature came to the surface ; 
he would not have been man had he remained self- 
poised. The language spoken was fitful, bold, and 
defiant; how could it have been otherwise? What 
fitter expression could there be for uncontrollable an- 
guish, bitterness of spirit and fiendish torture? His 
complaints are the exactest symbol possible of the 
wild, vehement, desperate, and reckless outgush of 
terrific and satanic suffering.* 

* Striking illustrations are the following passages : — 

"Am I a sea or a great whale 
That thou settest a guard over me? 
O, release me, since my. days are vanity! 
What is man, that thou shouldst sustain him, 
And shouldst pay attention to him ; 
That thou shouldst visit him every morning, 
And prove him every moment? 
Why wilt thou not turn away from me, 
Nor let me alone till I draw my breath? 
Have I sinned? What injury have I done to thee, 
O thou Observer of men ? 
Why set me up as a mark to shoot at, 
So that I am become a burden to myself? 
Why not pardon my transgression ? 



l6o THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

The visit of these friends was the crisis in his trial. 
Everything, in those few days, was to be gained or 

Why not take away mine iniquity, 
That now I might lie down in the dust? 
In the morning thou wouldst seek me ; but I should be 
gone." (vii. 12, 17-21.) 

" He who from his whirlwind hath bruised me, 
And has multiplied my wounds without cause, 
He hath not allowed me time to breathe, 
But loadeth me constantly with new sorrows. 

" It is a singular thing that I should come to this con- 
clusion, — 
'That God punishes alike the innocent and guilty.' 
Though he slays fools with his scourge, 
He also smiles at the calamities of the just. 
He abandons a land to the violence of the wicked; 
The face of their judges is hoodwinked, 
That they turn not to say, Who has done this? 

" Grant, then, that I am wicked! 
Why should I therefore labor in vain? 
Should I wash myself in snow-water, 
And cleanse my hands in purity, 
Still wouldst thou plunge me into filth, 
So that my own clothes would abhor me. 
He is not a man like myself whom I could reply to, 
That we should come together before the judge. 
There is no arbitrator between us, 
To exert his authority over both. 
Let him take away his rod from me, 
And no longer alarm me by his terror; 
Then I might speak, and not be afraid of him, 
But at present I stand not upon equal terms." 

(ix. 17, 18, 22-24, 29-35.) 

" I am thoroughly weary of my life ; 
I will abandon myself to my complaints; 
I will speak in the bitterness of my soul. 



THE TRIUMPH. l6l 

lost ; for everything was staked upon that final 
trial. 

I will say to God, ' Do not condemn me; 

Show me wherefore thou contendest with me I 

Can it give thee pleasure to oppress me; 

To reject the work of thine own hands, 

And to favor the counsel of the wicked ! 

Are thine eyes like those of mortals ? 

Seestthou as man seeth? 

Are thy days as the days of a man, 

Or thy years like human life; 

That thou searchest out mine iniquity, 

And makest inquest for my sin? 

Though thou knowest that I am not impious. — 

" ' Elated like a lion, thou springest upon me, 
And again thou showest thy power over me. 
Thou renewest thy tormenting attacks upon me, 
Thou increasest thy vexation against me, 
Fresh harasses and conflicts are with me ; 
Pray spare me, that I may enjoy some repose, 
Before I go, whence I shall not return, 
To a land of gloom, and the shadow of death, 
To a land of dissolution and extinction, 
Of the shadow of death, where there is no order, 
And where the very light is as pitchy darkness.' " 

(x. 1-7, 16, 17, 21, 22.) 

" Hold your peace, for I must speak — 
I will, whatever it should cost me. 
Come what may, I will take my flesh in my teeth, 
And carry my life in my own hand. 
There ! let him kill me — I have nothing to hope for. 

" Why dost thou hide thy face, 
And treat me as an enemy? 
Why break a poor, driven leaf? 
Why pursue the dry stubble? 
Thou writest severe decisions against me, 
Thou imputest to me the sins of my youth. 
II 



1 62 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

" Thus far, and no farther," is the constantly repeated 
injunction of Jehovah. He interposes oftener than 
men imagine. Afterwards the angels come to minis- 
ter. But it is hard that a man must fight his way alone, 
when many another man might lend a hand. Would 
to God that charity were not so rare among even the 
best of folks. Many a cup of bitterness has been unin- 
tentionally placed to the lips already enough sorrowful. 

Let each take care how he consoles his friend. 
When the heart is already bruised it is easy to bruise 
it more. The water that cools and refreshes at one 
time, scalds and burns to death at another. And it 

Thou puttest my feet in confinement, 

Thou narrowly observest all my movements, 

Thou brandest the soles of my feet." 

Me, who am already consumed with putrefaction, 

Like a garment corroded by the moth." 

(xiii. 13-15, 24-28.) 

" God hath delivered me over to the wicked; 
He hath hurled me into the hands of the impious. 
I was in tranquillity, but he disturbed me; 
Seizing me by the neck he throws me on the ground. 
He sets me up as a mark; 
His archers surround me; 
One transfixes my reins, and does not spare; 
Another poureth out my gall upon the ground : 
He breaketh me with breach upon breach, 
He runneth upon me like a giant." (xvi. n-14.) 

" I cry to thee (my God), but thou nearest me not; 
I stand up, but thou dost not regard me. 
Thou art become an adversary to me; 
Thou makest war on me with thy strong arm. 
Thou liftest me up in the air, 
Thou makest me ride on the storm ; 
Then thou dashest me to the ground. (xxix. 20-22.) 



THE TRIUMPH. 1 63 

were always far better to have an eye that sees beyond 
the present inch. " There are more things in heaven 
and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy." 
We cannot tell what one is, religiously or morally, by 
his present prosperities or adversities ; we must hear 
what goes on in heaven before 'giving our decisions. 

Much that is parable hangs about this world. To 
pronounce one sinful because in trouble, gives the lie 
to Gethsemane. 

" Who did sin," asked the Jews of Christ, " this 
man or his parents, that he was born blind?" Of 
course, one or the other. " Neither ! " replied our 
Saviour ; " but that the works of God should be made 
manifest in him." Earthquakes, lightnings, tempests, 
pestilences, conflagrations, — do they destroy sinners 
only, and do they come merely because the victims 
themselves are guilty? Fearful is such a creed! 

Suppose ye that those Galileans whose blood Pilate 
mingleji with their sacrifices, or those eighteen upon 
whom the tower in Siloam fell and slew, or those who 
are wrecked at sea, or those who are crushed and 
scalded in railway disasters, are sinners more than all 
others in Jerusalem and elsewhere ? "I tell ye, 
Nay."* 

The thoroughly vicious and corrupt man is, no 
doubt, miserable enough. But men equally selfish, 
whose fine senses are duly gratified, are fairly well off 
in this world, say what we may against it. A degree 
of happiness is compatible, in this life, with considera- 
ble iniquity. The really malignant vapors do not in- 
fect the air until after sun-fall. 

* Luke xiii. 1-5.' 



164 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

The good man's goodness, on the other hand, is not 
a continuous sunshine. Inward consolations are rich, 
but not everything. Wounds smart on a good man, 
and need healing. The poppy, each spring-time, may 
well be planted in every man's garden. Job was not 
happy on the ash-heap, the butt of ridicule and the 
mock of scorn, like some old stump of a tree, " which 
the lightning has scathed, rotting away in the wind 
and rain." 

The fact is, God admits men to his service, not 
upon conditions of either rewarding them at present 
with happiness, or shielding them from adversity. 
He sends his rain upon the just and the unjust. He 
reserves the right to give or withhold. We ask, Why? 
— why this or that, — but find no answer. Faithful- 
ness to God and truth " are higher and better than 
happiness, though they are attended with wounded 
feet and bleeding brows, and hearts loaded down 
with sorrow." Men must learn to serve without 
looking too sharply to the pay for it. Their business 
is to do what is right, and ask no questions as to 
what comes of it ; be it one thing or another, it is no 
very mighty matter. The veil which, in the legend, 
lay before the face of Isis, is not to be raised — till 
the day after doomsday. God wants men to love him, 
whether made more comfortable or not by it. 

Is that love, it is often asked, which influences man 
or woman to ask the hand of another, because a more 
comfortable home will be gained thereby. No won- 
der courts are crowded with divorce petitions. 

If need be, like the Norsemen, God's servants every 
day must fashion their " sword-hilts into crosses," and 



THE TRIUMPH. 1 65 

become themselves an unpaid, crusading chivalry, to 
go anywhere and do anything. 

Is it asked, too, about trials, — the trials in our 
own hearts and homes? We cannot always tell. One 
gains not much by questioning the unquestionable, 
especially when the eyes are blind and the ears deaf. 

God is an artist ; the greatest artists work by night ; 
they shut themselves by day in a darkened room, and 
chisel the marble by the light of a solitary and dim 
candle. There is, now and then, a ray of light in the 
deepest earthly gloom ; enough to show that trials 
sometimes serve one a good turn : besides leaving in 
their path much rich fruit, they leave the one disci- 
plined much more of a man.* 

The high-borns, as we are often reminded, unless 

* Dr. South, after showing that it was not for Job's sin that 
God afflicted him, but because he was freely pleased to do so, 
says, "Yet there was a reason of this pleasure, which was 
to discover that grace of patience, given him by God, to the 
astonishment of the world and the confutation of the devil; 
whom we find so impudent as to beat God down to his face, 
that he had never a servant in the world who would suffer 
such things from him without sinning against him. And 
was it not worth the sitting upon a dunghill, and seeing 
his substance scattered, his children struck dead, and him- 
self mocked in his misery, to vindicate the honor of that God, 
who gave him all of these things, from the devil, the true 
common enemy? and to be recorded as a mirror of patience 
to all posterity? and to convince the world that there is 
something in virtue better than possessions, truer than 
friends, and stronger than Satan? 'Ahough this dealing was 
not an effect of God's vindictive justice, but of his absolute 
power, yet it equally served both God's glory and Job's ad- 
vantage." 



1 66 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

they learn where poor men live, and know the chores 
poor men do, unless they feel clanger, cold, hunger, 
war, or something else, will have moderate ideas.* 
Barley crusts are better than too much cake and sweet- 
meats. The better part of our best education we have 
no schoolmasters for ; and that which most promotes 
our advancement is never noted in our text books.f 

Good health is considered a boon, but it is not 
always religious ; sickness sometimes sanctifies, health 
sometimes carnalizes. 

"Chamber of sickness! 'Midst thy silence, oft 

A voice is heard, 
Which, though it fall like dew on flowers, so soft, 

Yet speaks each word 
Into the aching heart's unseen recess, 
With power no earthly accents could possess." 

" The happy periods of human history," says He- 
gel, " are its least fruitful ones." The way to become 
immortal is to die daily. 

* Emerson. 

t De Quincey expresses a similar idea very beautifully : — 
" Now the word educo, with the penultimate short, was 
derived (by a process often exemplified in the crystalliza- 
tion of language) from the word educo, with the penultimate 
long. Whatsoever educes, or develops, educates. By the 
education, therefore, is meant, not the poor machinery that 
moves by spelling-books and grammars, but by that mighty 
system of central forces hidden in the deep bosom of human 
life, which by passion, by strife, by temptation, by the ener- 
gies of resistance, works forever upon children, resting not 
day or night, any more than the mighty wheel of day and 
night themselves, whose moments, like restless spokes, are 
glimmering forever as they revolve." 



THE TRIUMPH. 1 67 

But far more than this : trials bring man face to 
face with God. They set his house apart from the 
world for a season, and lift him outside the earth, with 
nothing between his soul and the eternal. The crape 
on the door-knob, could it speak, would say, " No 
admittance. Go on, stranger ; God is here for an 
hour or more." Wonderful is this acquired or in- 
spired power of dealing with appearances. 

It is the shock which throws the liquid in the 
retort into beautiful crystals. It is the earthquake 
that shakes down the miser's old house, and out from 
the crannies roll the stockings full of shining coin.* 
No man knows how much of a man he is until he 
has been fairly struck. 

" We learn geology," says Emerson, " the morning 
after earthquakes ; on ghastly diagrams of cloven 
mountains, upheaved plains, and dry beds of the sea." 
Such are God's opportunities and ways of disclosing 
himself; and marvellous are the revelations he some- 
times makes. The thing to guard against is,, that 
losses, crosses, and surprises, born of spiritual thunder- 
storms and earthquakes, leave not the soul withered or 
withering as under a curse. 

It is the tornado that clears the atmosphere, though 
in its march it levels the house as well as freights off 
deadly contagions. Be patient ; bear the grief that is 
crushing life out, just as well as you cam More is 
pending than you dream of. Perhaps God would 
have you, too, prove that Satan is a liar. There is a 
world somewhere, doubtless, that wants a king. This 
which we see is often the type, prelude, and pledge 

* Holmes. 



1 68 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

of eternal restoration. At least we can depend upon 
being helped to repair the house, and out from the 
tempest — this sackcloth tempest — a sun will rise 
anon, and there shall be no more night. " A joyful 
issue is that when no one concerned receives ultimate 
harm save Satan himself. ,, 



Most storms clear up in night-time, or towards even- 
ing. As with every brood of trials, so with these in the 
case of Job, there is an end at length, and it comes 
often in ways unexpected, and when matters are at 
their worst. A few things, meantime, cannot fail to 
have been noticed. Job succeeded, at last, in silencing 
his opponents. They said less and less, he more and 
more ; and in the closing interview he proceeded un- 
interrupted, " with calm confidence, like a lion among 
his defeated enemies. ,, 

There is found, also, over against everything ques- 
tionable in his expression, a full offset of something 
commendable. He asked, complainingly, Why is the 
divine will thus, and not otherwise? then submitted, 
saying, Not my will, but thine, be done. He demand- 
ed justice as one crushed without cause, then implored 
pity merely as a suppliant. He complained that God 
deals with unmerciful severity, then poured out his 
confession as a child to a tender father. One moment 
the surges dashed almost over his head, and pitiful is 
his wail of despair ; the next moment the waves were 
curling their crests beneath his feet, and he reaffirmed 
his confidence that God will make it all right in the 
end. At times he was irritated and violent; a mo- 



THE TRIUMPH. 1 69 

ment later, calm as an inland lake when the winds 
are whist. He loved his life, but in his distress he 
longed for death. He smiled as the door of the sep- 
ulchre opened, but started back with a shudder as its 
cold, damp atmosphere touched him. How masterly 
human ! 

A change in Job for the better is also noticeable 
throughout. As the controversy with his friends con- 
tinued, he seemed the more and more easily to tread 
his temptations under his feet. He found in them a 
ladder on which his spirit climbed above the clouds. 
He saw things clearer and clearer. The thick scales 
fell from his eyes. He passed farther and farther from 
his friends, soaring, at length, where their imaginations 
even could not follow. Their condition, on the other 
hand, grew darker and darker ; they exhausted their 
stock of argument, and were gradually reduced to si- 
lence ; calmness of tone followed ; and the storm of 
passion was stilled now that those who stirred it no 
longer spoke. 

There is of a sudden a presentiment that we are 
upon the threshold of solution. Bildad spoke, and 
should have been followed by Zophar ; but for some 
reason there was general silence. 

A new personage appeared ; he had been burning to 
speak, but the etiquette of the East forbade him. He 
was a young man, and wise beyond his years ; * he 

* "Why he is described as a youth may be learned from 
the words which the author puts into his mouth : — 

" ' I thought, Let days speak, and let the multitude of years 
prove wisdom.' But the Spirit is in man [on that all de- 
pends!], and the breath of the Almighty giveth them under- 



ijTO THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

was able to throw much new light upon the dark 
problems among which the others had blindly groped. 
He declared what was no doubt true, that Job had not 
been faultless under his trials ; no man is, or has been, 
such, or beyond the possibility, under severe tempta- 
tion, of becoming almost one knows not what. 

No man, did we say? ■ No man save one, — he 
of Nazareth, we mean.* A faultless life from first to 
last concerns God less, perhaps, than a constant strug- 

standing. Not the many are wise : neither do the aged un- 
derstand judgment. Majorities are without weight in the 
church, and in spiritual things age does not at all carry the 
weight which belongs to it in the walks of common life. 
One inexperienced youth, with the spirit of God, is wiser than 
loud multitudes and gray heads, and even than the Coryphaei 
of wisdom without it. Besides, a youth is the most fitting 
representative of a truth which is here introduced with fresh- 
ness and vigor into the midst of the church of God." — Heng- 

STENBERG. 

* Elihu's description of the tempest is a piece of almost 
unequalled magnificence : — 

" With his hands he grasps the lightning, 
And gives his orders where it shall full. 
He commands that his friends should be safe, 
But he hurls his wrath against the wicked. 
Truly, at this my heart trembles, 
And shudders in my bosom. 
Hear with awe the concussion of his voice, 
And the peal that issues from his mouth. 
Throughout the whole heaven is its flash, 
And its blaze to the ends of the earth. 
After it pealeth the roar, 
He thundereth with his majestic voice. 
The peals succeed without intermission, 
Yet no one can trace him, though his voice be heard." 



THE TRIUMPH. 1^1 

gle through life for faultlessness. The parables of the 
wandering sheep and the lost piece of money are 
suggestive. 

But this should be noted, that throughout that night 
of gloom, even when reason had well nigh quit its 
throne, we listen in vain to hear anything from the 
patriarch that has the curse of God in it. 

Job had, it is true, complained — complained most 
bitterly ; but chiefly because of an impenetrable gloom. 
He was no rebellious spirit, struck down in his haugh- 
ty pride : he was no defiant infidel, who calls God 
" the Almighty tyrant, whom he wishes to look boldly 
in the face, and swear that his evil is not good;" he 
was no stoic, who could bear because he must bear 
the blow struck ; he was no Titan, contending in rage 
with the gods ; he was no Prometheus, bound to a 
rock because Jove had been displeased and was the 
stronger ; but Job was a man, — a tender and noble 
man ; weak, to be sure, but continually struggling to 
overcome every weakness ; self-confident, it is true, 
but awaiting any correction, if from the hand of God. 
He w r as ignorant of many things, it is true, but still 
a worthy man, left for a season to suffer for God's 
glory and the good of others, but during every mo- 
ment of his trial dearly beloved of God, as justly he 
should have been. 

The needle had only been shaken by a violent 
hand from its bearings. It quickly returned, and 
regained its native north. Among the stfblimest sen- 
timents ever uttered are these that sprang from this 
afflicted hero's many sorrows, even when most sor- 
rowful. Like beautiful flowers on the turf of the 



172 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

grave-mound, they will bloom, and bloom on, forever 
and ever. Listen : " Though he slay me, yet will I 
trust him." * 

" As God liveth, who hath taken away my judg- 
ment ; and the Almighty, who hath vexed my soul ; all 
the while my breath is in me, and the spirit of God 
is in my nostrils ; my lips shall not speak wickedness, 
nor my tongue utter deceit ; till I die I will not re- 
move mine integrity from me. My righteousness I 
hold fast, and will not let it go ; my heart shall not 
reproach me so long as I live.f 

41 For I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that 
he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth : and 
though after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in 
my flesh shall I see God : whom I shall see for my- 
self, and mine eyes shall behold, and not another ; 
though my reins be consumed within me." j Here 

* Job xiii. 15. f Job xvii. 2-6. 

J Job xix. 25-27. His magnificent eulogy of Wisdom should 
not be overlooked. 

" Wisdom! whence then cometh it? 
Where is the abode of understanding? 

It is hid from the eyes of the living; 

It is concealed from the fowls of the air. 

Destruction and death say, 

'We have heard of its fame with our ears.' 

God alone understandeth its track; 

Yea, he is acquainted with its abode. 

For he seeth to the extremities of the earth; 

He surveyeth under the whole heavens. 

When he made a balance for the air, 

And adjusted the waters by measure — 

When he fixed a course for the rain, 

And a path for the lightning of the storm — 



THE TRIUMPH. 1 73 

is the embodiment of nobility. This is the blood of 
no common man ; and yet the blood of a common 
man is convertible, by process of trial and the grace 
of God, into blood the most royal. He, whoever he 
is, that is faithful over a few things shall be made 
ruler over many. 

A thunder-storm rose in the distance ; it drew 
nearer and nearer ; a profound silence rested upon 
all nature ; an awful peal was heard, the cloud burst, 
and the majestic voice of the Almighty was heard, 
uttering words that well befit so sublime a speaker,* 

Then he saw it and proclaimed it; 

He established it and thoroughly proved it. 

And to man he said — ' Behold ! 

The fear of Jehovah, that is wisdom ! 

And to abstain from evil — is understanding! ' " 

(xxviii. 20-28.) 
* The following observations will doubtless receive full in- 
dorcement of the reader : — 

" I imagine," says Scott, " it will be easily granted, that, 
for majesty of sentiment and strength of expression, this 
speech has nothing equal to it in the most admired produc- 
tions of Greece and Rome." "To put suitable language in 
the mouth of the Deity," says Gilfillan, " has generally tasked 
to straining, or crushed to feebleness the genius of poets. 
Homer, indeed, at times nobly ventriloquizes from the top 
of Olympus; but it is ventriloquism ! Homer's thunder, not 
Jove's. Milton, while impersonating God, falls flat; he peeps 
and mutters from the dust; he shrinks from seeking to fill up 
the compass of the Eternal's voice. Adequately to represent 
God speaking required not only the highest inspiration, but 
that the poet had heard, or thought that he heard, His very 
voice, sharpening articulate sounds from the midnight tor- 
rent, from the voices of the wind, from the chambers of thun- 
der, from the rush of the whirlwind, from the hush of night, 



174 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

and announcing that Job, the passionate, vehement, 
well nigh sceptical Job, had spoken the truth ; the 
false views of his friends were declared more offensive 
to heaven than Job's bitterest complaints had been. 

"And it was so, that after the Lord had spoken 
these words unto Job, the Lord said to Eliphaz the 
Temanite, My wrath is kindled against thee, and 
against thy two friends : for ye have not spoken of me 
the thing that is right, as my servant Job hath. There- 
fore, take unto you now seven bullocks and seven 
rams, and go to my servant Job, and offer up for 

and from the breeze of day. And doubtless the author of 
the Book of Job had this same experience. . . . Some 
persons have voices to the note of the flute, and others to 
the swell of the organ; but this highest reach of poetry rose 
to the music of the mightiest and oldest elements of nature, 
combining to form the various parts in the one voice of God. 
And how this whirlwind of poetry, once aroused, storms 
along! how it ruffles the foundations of the earth! how it 
churns up the ocean into spray! how it unveils the old 
treasure of the hail and the snow! how it soars up to the 
stars ! how the lightnings say to it, ' Here we are ! * how, 
stooping from, this pitch, it sweeps over the various noble or 
terrible creatures of the bard's country — raising the mane of 
the lion, stirring the wild horror of the raven's wing, racing 
with the wild ass into the wilderness, flying* with the eagle 
and the hawk, shortening speed with the lazy vastness of 
behemoth, awakening the thunder of the horse's neck, and 
daring to open * the doors of the fire,' with the ' teeth terrible 
round about' of leviathan himself! The truth, the literal 
exactness, the freshness, fire, and rapidity of the figures pre- 
sented resemble less the slow, elaborate work of a painter, 
than a succession of pictures taken instantaneously by the 
finger of the sun, and true to the smallest articulation of the 
burning life." 



THE TRIUMPH. 1 75 

yourselves a burnt-offering; and my servant Job shall 
pray for you : for him will I accept : lest I deal with 
you after your folly, in that ye have not spoken of me 
the thing which is right, like my servant Job. So Eli- 
phaz the Temanite, and Bildad the Shuhite, and 
Zophar the Naamathite went, and did according as 
the Lord commanded them : the Lord also accepted 
Job. And the Lord turned the captivity of Job, when 
he prayed for his friends : also the Lord gave Job 
twice as much as he had before. Then came there 
unto him all his brethren, and all his sisters, and all 
they that had been of his acquaintance before, and did 
eat bread with him in his house : and they bemoaned 
him, and comforted him over all the evil that the 
Lord had brought upon him : every man also gave 
him a piece of money, and every one an ear-ring of 
gold. So the Lord blessed the latter end of Job more 
than his beginning : for he had fourteen thousand 
sheep, and six thousand camels, and a thousand yoke 
of oxen, and a thousand she-asses. He had also 
seven sons and three daughters. And he called the 
name of the first, Jemima ; and the name of the sec- 
ond, Kezia ; and the name of the third, Keren-Hap- 
puch.* And in all the land were no women found so 
fair as the daughters of Job ; and their father gave 
them inheritance among their brethren. After this 
lived Job a hundred and forty years, and saw his 

* The names given to these daughters are suggestive. The 
name of the first signifies The Day, — a fair and elegant com- 
plexion ; that of the second signifies Cassia, fragrant and 
precious; that of the third, the horn of Amalthea, " with a 
face splendid as the emerald." 



176 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

sons, and his sons' sons, even four generations. So 
Job died, being old and full of days." * 

This sequel is beautiful, and seemingly just as we 
would have it ; but restorations are not always re- 
ceived in this life, and are but a small part of what 
God intends. 

In that repose of one hundred and forty years Job 
was awaiting what eye hath not seen. He had been 
fitted for a sphere such as this life does not afford. 

Before his trials he had been pronounced faultless 
in his love of God and hate of sin ; afterwards he had 
added thereto a wealth of sanctified knowledge that 
made him many fold more a man. He was made fit 
for any service ; Jehovah on the spot appointed him 
his arbiter and priest, (xlii. 8.) Satan had lied ; he 
was defeated, and balked were all his wily and malig- 
nant intrigues ; Job had triumphed, and became a 
king. No angel in heaven could have done better. 
Job had beaten all his enemies. Once, twice, thrice 
had he beaten, fairly beaten, his greatest enemy in the 
fray. So great was Satan's overthrow, that, in these 
closing scenes of the drama, he is passed over in silent 
contempt, and left by himself to bear the eternal dis- 
grace of his defeat. God's confidence had not been 
misplaced. He was proud of his earth-born hero. 
God loves heroes. What honorable mention he makes 
of his list of worthies. f We need no longer marvel 
that saints are to judge the world, and rule the uni- 
verse ; none are fitter for such positions than ?nen who 
conquer. 

* Job xlii. 7-17. t Heb. xi. 



THE KING. 



It is evident that there is a manifest progress in the suc- 
cession of beings on the surface of the earth. This progress 
consists in an increasing similarity to the living fauna, and 
among the vertebrates, especially in their increasing resem- 
blance to man. But this connection is not the consequence 
of a direct lineage between the faunas of different ages. There 
is nothing like parental descent connecting them. The fishes 
of the Palaeozoic age are in no respect the ancestors of the 
reptiles of the Secondary age; nor does man descend from 
the mammals which preceded him in the Tertiary age. The 
link by which they are connected is of a higher and immate- 
rial nature; and their connection is to be sought in the view 
of the Creator himself, whose aim in forming the earth, in 
allowing it to undergo the successive changes which geology 
has pointed out, and in creating successively all the different 
types of animals which have passed away, was to introduce 
man upon the surface of our globe. Man is the end towards 
which all the animal creation has tended from the first ap- 
pearance of the first Palaeozoic fishes. Agassiz. 

Man was sent into the world to be a growing and exhaust- 
less force. The world was spread out around him to be 
seized and conquered. Realms of infinite truth burst open 
above him, inviting him to tread those shining coasts along 
which Newton dropped his plummet, and Herschel sailed — 
a Columbus of the skies. Chapin. 

I affirm, and trust that I do not speak too strongly, that 
there are traces of infinity in the human mind, and that, 
in this very respect, it bears a likeness to God. The very 
conception of infinity is the mark of a nature to which no 
limit can be prescribed. This thought, indeed, comes to us, 
not so much from abroad as from our own souls. We as- 
cribe this attribute to God, because we possess capacities and 
wants which only an unbounded being can fill, and because 
we are conscious of a tendency in spiritual faculties to un- 
limited expansion. Channing. 

179 



The scrutiny of human nature on a small scale is one of 
the most dangerous of employments; the study of it on a 
large scale is one of the safest and truest. Isaac Taylor. 

We have more power than will; and it is often by way of 
excuse to ourselves that we fancy things are impossible. 

Rochefoucauld. 

Bounded in his nature, infinite in his desires, man is a 
fallen god, who has a recollection of heaven. Lamartine. 

There is but one temple in the world, and that is the body 
of man. Nothing is holier than this high form. Bending 
before men is a reverence done to this revelation in the flesh. 
We touch heaven when we lay our hand on a human body. 

Novalis. 

" We touch heaven when we lay our hand on a human 
body!" This sounds much like a mere flourish of rhetoric; 
but it is not so. If well meditated, it will turn out to be a 
scientific fact; the expression, in such words as can be had, 
of the actual truth of the thing. We are the miracle of mir- 
acles — the great inscrutable mystery of God. We cannot 
understand it, we know not how to speak of it; but we may 
feel and know, if we like, that it is really so. Carlyle. 

Man is the image and glory of God. i Cor. xi. 7. 

He that toucheth you, toucheth the apple of his eye. 

Zech. ii. 8. 

And above the firmament that was over their heads was 
the likeness of a throne, as the appearance of a sapphire 
stone, and upon the likeness of the throne was the likeness 
as the appearance of a man above upon it. 

Ezek. i. 26. 

Lord, we know what we are, but know not what we may be. 

Shakespeare. 
180 



THE KING. 



ONE of the grandest questions now appearing in 
the different fields of religion, philosophy, and 
physical science, bears upon the relative position of 
humanity in the universe. Is humanity higher and 
essentially different from other created objects, or only 
upon a par with many of them, and essentially the same 
with all of them ? Such is the question which ob- 
trudes itself into almost every form of discussion ; yet 
rarely has it been stated with definiteness, and still 
more rarely does it receive a positive and satisfactory 
answer. 

Pantheism, whether in the form of naturalism, posi- 
tivism, or poetic sentimentalism, pronounces sublime- 
ly upon the exaltation of humanity. Man, it says, is 
divine ; he is God, therefore infinite. What more can 
be asked? 

But pantheism has this everlasting drawback ; it 
proves too much, and goes too far. The waxing of 
the dawn, the waning of the evening, the incoming 
tide of the sea, the jelly-fish and polype are each 
divine ; they are God, therefore are infinite. So that 
the distinction and the relative pre-eminence, which 

181 



152 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

the human soul feels it has an inalienable right to 
demand between itself and a piece of clay, is practi- 
cally denied by pantheism ; and hence its silence, 
when the idea of relative position is introduced ; and 
hence, also, the death of speculative pantheism, anon, 
— for it is contrary to human conviction ; it is a born 
and bred oddity, and odd things are not permitted 
to live, though supported by genius of the highest 
order. 

Again : the philosophical and sentimental religious 
schemes of the day, in the various forms of liberalism, 
radicalism, and free inquiry, claim to place the highest 
possible estimate upon humanity. Advocates of these 
views frequently inveigh against the popular or evan- 
gelical theology, because, as they assert, it degrades 
humanity ; making of man anything save the self-reli- 
ant son of the God, as he is according to their views. 
They claim, it is true, that man is his own lawgiver, 
judge, and final court of appeal. They give him the 
right to interpret for himself the truth of things, and 
attribute to him the power, unaided, of rising well nigh 
into the solitudes of the infinite. 

While there may be much that is inspiring and 
imposing, also somewhat that is true in these concep- 
tions, still they leave so many practical and every-day 
problems untouched, that we are not much better off 
for any instruction received therefrom. We have to 
blind our eyes to much voluntary wretchedness existing 
in humanity, or else look beyond the inteipretations of 
liberalism. Many a radical, in his better moments, 
has confessed sad misgivings as to how the masses can 
be reached-th rough modern improvements, and have 



THE KING. 183 

confessed that while their machinery can take care of 
the refined and educated, it is not well qualified to 
transmute ordinary mire and clay into gods. 

Five years ago, all were on tiptoe to see liberalism 
work out its wonderful conversions, regenerations, 
sanctifications, transfigurations, and flights to heaven 
in chariots of fire ; but after all its efforts and exper- 
iments, and in spite of them, the world continues to 
be evangelized not one whit, save by the old instru- 
mentalities of the popular theology, and it alone seems 
qualified to solve this grand problem before us. 

Modern physical science is also very curious and 
wonderful. The data it brings us are invaluable. 
The amazing strides it has taken in every direction, 
within the last half score years, wins universal and 
merited applause. 

But, nevertheless, some of its leading investigators 
come to such strange and outlandish conclusions re- 
specting the relative attitude of man in the universe, 
that their announcements are forthwith vetoed by uni- 
versal common sense. The tadpolean coat of arms, 
which certain scientists attempt to hang up in every 
man's house, will be turned face to the wall. We 
cannot, on Darwin's plan, inspire reverence for a 
monkey ; by as much as the brute comes to look like 
a man is it disgusting. Humanity never has had, 
and never will have, stomach to bear and digest such 
coarse diet. In fine, humanity will always clap its 
hands to eyes and ears, and rightly so, whenever told 
that it is only a more developed polywog. Indeed, 
the world of science itself is rapidly receding from 
all such advanced views, and is slowly but surely set- 



184 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

tling back upon the everlasting foundations of re- 
vealed truth.* 

* Dr. Guthrie well states in what estimate man is held by 
other things, and what other things do for him : — 

" Infidelity regards man as little better than an animated 
statue, living clay, a superior animal. She sees no jewel of 
immortality flashing in this earthly casket. According to 
her, our future being is a brilliant but baseless dream of the 
present ; death an everlasting sleep; and that dark, low, 
loathsome grave our eternal sepulchre. 

Vice, again, looks on man as an animal formed for the in- 
dulgence of brutal appetites. She sees no divinity in his in- 
tellect, nor pure feelings, nor lofty aspirations, worthy of the 
cultivation for the coming state. Her foul finger never points 
him to the skies. She leaves powers and feelings, which 
might have been trained to heaven, to trail upon the ground, 
to be soiled and trodden in the mire, or to intwine them- 
selves around the basest objects. In virtuous shame, in 
modesty, purity, integrity, gentleness, natural affection, she 
blights with her poisonous breath whatever vestiges of beau- 
ty have survived the Fall ; and when she has done her per- 
fect work, she leaves man a wreck, a wretch, an object of 
loathing, not only to God and angels, but — lowest and deep- 
est of all degradation — an object of contempt and loathing to 
himself. 

While infidelity regards man as a mere animal, to be dis- 
solved at death into ashes and air, and vice changes man 
into a brute or devil, Mammon enslaves him. She makes 
him a serf, and condemns him to be a gold-digger for life in 
the mines. She puts her collar on his neck, and locks it; 
and bending his head to the soil, and bathing his brow in 
sweat, she says, Toil, toil, toil! as if this creature, original- 
ly madejn the image of God, this dethroned and exiled mon- 
arch, to save whom the Son of God descended from the 
skies and bled on Calvary, were a living machine, construct- 
ed of sinew, bone and muscle, and made for no higher end 
than to work to live, and live to work." 



THE KING. 185 

Our purpose, in these leading remarks, has not 
been to ignore either pantheism, liberalism, or scepti- 
cal science ; but merely to suggest their inadequacy 
at solving one of the problems most interesting to us, 
and to account for their comparative silence whenever 
questioned, and also to pave the way to the disclo- 
sures of biblical theology as to the relative position of 
humanity in the universe. 

In the first place, there can be no controversy raised 
between pantheism, liberalism, or physical science on 
the one hand, and biblical theology on the other, as to 
the position man actually occupies upon this earth. 
They all unite in placing him upon the royal throne 
of this world, and place in his hands unqualifiedly the 
sceptre of dominion over all earth's creatures. It is 
an established conviction of science and philosophy, 
that no race of beings will ever rise, or can ever rise 
upon this earth, who will dare for a moment to dis- 
pute its dominion with man. In the line of physical 
existence it is reported from every quarter that the 
maximum of creation is reached ; the king is found. 
Every branch of science, every principle of philoso- 
phy, confirm one of the first announcements of biblical 
theology — this : that the Almighty, in crowning man, 
has completed his best piece of work. From the hor- 
izontal line of the fish he has passed to the vertical 
column of man ; mathematics can suggest nothiDg 
higher. The principle of natural selection also, so 
far as there is truth in it, has now fallen into the 
hands of a race of invincible giants ; every crea- 
ture bows and accepts the fiat, as God solemnly an- 
nounces man's final inauguration in the sublime words, 



1 86 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

" Have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over 
the fowl of the air, and over every living thing that 
moveth upon the earth." * Thus it remains unaltera- 
ble from that day to this ; six thousand years have 
made no change. Man, in his exaltation or humilia- 
tion, in his civilization or barbarism, is still the mon- 
arch of every inch of this earth he inhabits, and will 
remain thus till the end of time. 

We are now prepared to seek the solution of one 
or two other propositions, which we do by the method 
of gradual approach. The intention, in a word, is to 
extend our inquiries from this to the heavenly or spir- 
itual world. 

The Scriptures and science agree that in the crea- 
tion and fitting up of this earth the Deity has proceeded 
from lower to higher forms, the culmination, as we have 
seen, being in man. Is it not reasonable, therefore, 
to conclude that when the culmination is reached, the 
Deity will be especially inclined to embody himself in 
that highest form or object? It is his ideal, it is his 
idea ; therefore is it not his especial representative? In 
other words, to say the least, does not the Deity show 
himself in that last work more than he shows himself 
in any other work? 

But man is the completest workmanship of God on 
this earth ; he is felt to be more God-like, more the 
representation or manifestation of the Deity than is 
anything else on earth. Man is the light of the world ; 
he is consequently the temple of the Holy Ghost, or 
else there is none. 

The question, then, is this ; inasmuch as there has 

* Gen. i. 28. 



THE KING. 1 87 

been a progressive series of creations in this world, 
culminating in physical humanity, which occupies the 
thrones of this world, why may we not draw this in- 
ference — that in the realms of the invisible universe 
God has also begun with lower forms of spiritual 
existences, and has advanced on towards higher, com- 
mencing, for instance, with spiritual polypes, and then 
passing on through spiritual serpents, and the differ- 
ent spiritual animals, the different orders of angelic 
existences, such as seraphs, cherubs, angels, arch- 
angels, principalities and powers, and then culminat- 
ing his work in spiritual humanity, which, for a time, 
is placed on the thrones of the heavenly worlds, as phys- 
ical humanity is placed upon the throne of the physical 
world? What strong confirmation does this thought 
receive from that marvellous statement of revelation, 
that " the invisible things of him, from the creation 
of the world, are clearly seen, being understood by 
the things that are made, even his eternal power and 
Godhead " ! The correspondence between things in 
the physical and spiritual worlds is, by inference, un- 
doubtedly perfect : upon entering the spiritual world 
we shall, in all probability, not be met by universal 
surprises, but with familiar forms, — of beauty in the 
one place, heaven ; and of hideousness in the other 
place, hell.* So that, if the foregoing inference is 

* The repeatecTrepresentations of spiritual forms in heaven 
corresponding with the animal forms of earth (Rev. iv. 7, 8) 
must not have the too easy go-by, as though they meant 
nothing in particular. It is possible that we ought often to 
be a little less allegorical, and more simple, child-like and 
literal in our interpretation of certain scriptures. Take for 



1 88 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE, 

natural and true, then, by as much as physical human- 
ity is the highest type of the physical, we may, by 

illustration the temptation of Eve : the account is brief and 
definite. " Now the serpent was more subtle than any beast 
of the field which the Lord God had made : and he said unto 
the woman, Yea, hath God said, Ye shall not eat of every 
tree of the garden ? And the woman said unto the serpent, 
We may eat of the fruit of the trees of the garden : But of 
the fruit of the tree which is in the midst of the garden, God 
hath said, Ye shall not eat of it, neither shall ye touch it, lest 
ye die. And the serpent said unto the woman, Ye shall not 
surely die : For God doth know that in the day ye eat thereof, 
then your eyes shall be opened; and ye shall be as gods, 
knowing good and evil." 

The woman yielded, and then " the Lord God said unto 
the woman, What is this that thou hast done? And the 
woman said, The serpent beguiled me, and I did eat. And 
the Lord God said unto the serpent, Because thou hast done 
this, thou art cursed above all cattle, and above every beast 
of the field: upon thy belly shalt thou go, and dust shalt 
thou eat all the days of thy life: And I will put enmity be- 
tween thy seed and her seed : it shall bruise thy head, and 
thou shalt bruise his heel." (Gen. iii. 1-5, 13-15.) 

Now, what authority have we for saying this serpent was 
Satan? The Bible nowhere gives such authority. " Nahash," 
serpent or dragon, is the word employed. This account in 
Genesis is not allegory; it is plain, straightforward history. 
Why not say that it was one of the lower and fallen orders 
of spiritual existences, corresponding with what men in de- 
liritim tremens invariably see, and corresponding with the 
serpent species of earth which tempted Eve? To expose our 
first parents, being inexperienced and unsuspecting, to the 
temptations of the superior skill and sagacity of Satan him- 
self, would hardly seem fitting. May we not better suppose 
that the agency was a serpent imp? There may be a deeper 
significance in the repugnance felt by man towards the ser- 



THE KING. 189 

analogy, argue that spiritual humanity is the highest 
type of the spiritual ; that it is the culmination of spir- 
itual creation, the ideal of the divine mind, the com- 
pletest embodiment and representation of the divine 
idea, which speaks the mind and pleasure of God, 
which is the light of that world, the temple of the 
Holy Ghost there, the one which holds the sceptre and 
sits forever upon the throne, the brightness of God's 
glory and the express image of his person.* 

pent tribe than appears at first upon the surface, provided it 
is a symbol of one of the lower orders of fallen spiritual 
being. (See Outlines of Christian Theology, p. 75.) 

* Lest the point is not made clear, pardon its repetition in 
a little different form. God has proceeded in his creation of 
spiritual existences as he has in the creation of physical exist- 
ences, beginning with the lower, and proceeding to the high- 
er forms ; a spiritual polype, and then on towards a spiritual 
man. Quite high in this scale of spiritual existence is angel- 
ic nature, the highest type of which we may suppose to have 
been Satan. But angelic nature in its highest type is not the 
highest type that could be created. It is not the highest that 
God designed to create. It is not the form in which he de- 
signed to enthrone and incarnate himself. It is not the form, 
in fact, which he designed to place upon the universal throne, 
and which he was to invest with all the glory of the divine 
majesty; he was awaiting a still higher order of creation. 

The last type and the highest type of the spiritual creation, if 
we mistake not, is human nature ; an elder brotherhood of our 
humanity. The highest type of this nature God pronounced 
his well-beloved Son. It was so grand a display of perfected 
existence that God could do no more or better. He pro- 
nounced this the first born, in point of excellence, of all 
creation ; the second personation of the eternal Godhead 
enthroned itself within thi^ humanity, becoming thereby the 
visible Jehovah, the wieider of God's sceptre, whom Abraham 



I90 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

This inference may seem, for the moment, a little 
wild, but it certainly very closely corresponds with 
biblical representations. It is nowhere hinted in the 
Scriptures that the invisible Deity in the spiritual uni- 
verse has committed the sceptre and the throne to 
angelic or to archangelic beings, but there are numer- 
ous representations showing that this authority has 
been submitted to a type of humanity. 

It is also revealed that the otherwise invisible Deity 
enshrines himself in this highest manifestation of his 
creative power ; and so perfect is this, his crowning 
work, that he is pleased to call it, not his creation, but 
his Son ; so completely is this God's ideal, so perfect 
is the blending between the Father Almighty and this 
his chief, that they are — one. 

In the light of this thought, the various scriptures 
bearing upon the subject need no interpretation ; they 
need merely to be read. Take the opening chapter 
of the Bible, for instance : " Let us make man in our 
image, after our likeness." * The heavenly world 
must therefore have had appearances which physical 
humanity resembles ; and not only this, but the Cre- 
ator also says that it is our image, in which man is 
created.f In former times, also, as biblical theology 

called "Lord," whom Manoah called " God," and who called 
himself " Captain of the Lord's Hosts; " and later, one with 
the Father Almighty : indissoluble seems to be the bond, 
during the present dispensation, at least; the universe has 
found in him its chief king, and the throne its chief occupant. 

* Gen. i. 26. 

t How could evil come into a pure universe? is a question 
attended with not a little perplexity; indeed, it is one of the 



THE KING. I9I 

tells us, different types of this heavenly or spiritual 
humanity were wont to appear on the earth to patri- 
archs ; or perhaps it would be more correct to say, 
that the prophetic and purified eye was enabled to see 
what the ordinary eye cannot see, though what was 
seen is likewise not far from every one of us.* 

The person whom Adam met in the garden, and 
with whom Enoch walked, and with whom Abraham 

most difficult and perplexing problems in theology. But if 
the supposition is correct, that Satan stood at the head of 
created and spiritual intelligences up to the time of the crea- 
tion of pre-existent spiritual humanity, then with the intro- 
duction of this new type of creation, with a chief of whom 
we read, "When he bringeth in the first begotten, " and 
saith, " Let all the angels of God worship him," it is not 
difficult to imagine that Lucifer, son of the morning, who 
had hitherto stood first, would have occasion for an inexcu- 
sable rebellion; if he rebelled, it is likely enough that a third 
or more would side with him. It was not the invisible God, 
but spiritual humanity, with which he was contending, and 
which he expected easily to conquer. His was the Southern 
Confederacy. He had no idea, at the outset, there would be 
so much blood shed, or that the campaign would last so 
long; but having engaged in this war, he is determined to 
keep it up, even in his degradation and chains. (See pages 
125, 126, note.) 

* Perhaps it will better harmonize with the ideas of the 
reader to suppose that Christ was the only type of pre-ex- 
istent humanity, and that those who appeared with him were 
earth-born humanity : they were certainly earth-born attend- 
ants who appeared with Jesus upon the mount of transfig- 
uration — old acquaintances, really; and so they may have 
been old acquaintances who appeared with Christ to Abra- 
ham. These may have been Christ's disciples in the other 
world — those who aforetime had gone from this world. 



I92 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

conversed, and with whom Jacob wrestled, and whom 
Moses beheld, was in each instance clothed in a hu- 
man form. The passages recounting these things are 
perfectly simple, if we look at them as we should — 
that is, with child-like simplicity ; but they are per- 
fectly amazing if we look at them in any other light. 
What, for illustration, is the obvious interpretation of 
the following account? 

"And the Lord appeared unto him (Abraham) in 
the plains of Mamre ; and he sat in the tent-door in 
the heat of the day ; and he lifted up his eyes and 
looked, and lo, three men stood by him." The ac- 
count then states that Abraham entertained them ; 
and after the entertainment we read, " And the men 
rose up from thence, and looked toward Sodom ; and 
Abraham went with them to bring them on their way. 
And the Lord said, Shall I hide from Abraham that 
thing which I do?" 

We next read that this Lord, who was one of the 
three men, made the following disclosure : " And the 
Lord said, Because the cry of Sodom and Gomorrah is 
great, and because their sin is very grievous, I will go 
down now," — that is, they were on the table lands 
above those cities, — " and see whether they have done 
altogether according to the cry of it which is come 
unto me ; and if not, I will know. And the men " — 
two of the three — " turned their faces from thence, 
and went toward Sodom ; but Abraham stood yet 
before the Lord." 

Then followed the intercessions of Abraham in 
behalf of the city : — 

"And Abraham drew near, and said, Wilt thou 



THE KING. I93 

also destroy the righteous with the wicked? Perad- 
venture there be fifty righteous within the city : wilt 
thou also destroy and not spare the place for the fifty 
righteous that are therein? That be far from thee to 
do after this manner, to slay the righteous with the 
wicked; and that the righteous should be as the 
wicked, that be far from thee : Shall not the Judge 
of all the earth do right? And the Lord said, If I 
find in Sodom fifty righteous within the city, then I 
will spare all the place for their sakes. And Abra- 
ham answered and said, Behold now I have taken 
upon me to speak unto the Lord, which am but dust 
and ashes. Peradventure there shall lack five of the 
fifty righteous : wilt thou destroy all the city for lack 
of five ? And he said, If I find there forty and five, 
I will not destroy it. And he spake unto him yet 
again, and said, Peradventure there shall be forty 
found there. And he said, I will not do it for forty's 
sake. " And he said unto him, O, let not the Lord 
be angry, and I will speak : Peradventure there shall 
thirty be found there. And he said, I will not do it, 
if I find thirty there. And he said, Behold now I 
have taken upon me to speak unto the Lord : Perad- 
venture there shall be twenty found there. And he 
said, I will not destroy it for twenty's sake. And he 
said, O, let not the Lord be angry, and I will speak 
yet but this once. Peradventure ten shall be found 
there. And he said, I will not destroy it for ten's 
sake. And the Lord went his way as soon as he had 
left communing with Abraham : and Abraham re- 
turned unto his place." * 

* Gen, xviii. 

13 



194 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

Whatever our notions of this interview may be, this 
is true : that the strange being, who looked, so far as 
Abraham could see, like a man, who had companions 
with him, who could read the hearts of the men of 
Sodom, and who could destroy their city, talked as 
though he was man, and as though he was God. But 
without anticipating too much, we may refer to an- 
other instance. 

Just before the overthrow of Jericho, Joshua, while 
reconnoitring, saw a man with a drawn sword. So 
thoroughly real and human was this man, that Joshua 
challenged him, to know to which side he belonged. 
u As captain of the Lord's hosts am I come," he re- 
plied. In the same sentence, that strange visitant was 
called, " man," u Jehovah," and the u captain of the 
Lord's hosts." 

This scene is also in perfect keeping with the 
visit made to the parents of Samson. The one who 
stood before them looked like a man, they called him 
a man, they spoke to him as to a man ; but his words 
and his works were so wonderful, that when he de- 
parted, " Manoah said unto his wife, We shall surely 
die, because we have seen God. But his wife said unto 
him, If the Lord were pleased to kill us, he would not 
have showed us all these things." 

In addition to these appearances of spiritual hu* 
inanity on the earth, another fact is worthy of men- 
tion : the prophetic eye and inspired heart have been 
permitted, at different times, to look in upon the spir- 
itual world ; but they have made only one discovery, 
and have returned only one report bearing upon the 
thought before us ; they have seen, from first to last, 



THE KING. I95 

a type of humanity of the most dazzling brightness, 
occupying the throne of the invisible God, and holding 
the sceptre of supreme authority ; the glory of God 
and a human face are the almost invariable associa- 
tion. " And above the firmament that was over their 
heads was the likeness of a throne, as the appearance 
of a sapphire stone : and upon the likeness of the 
throne was the likeness as the appearance of a man 
above upon it," * is a characteristic representation. 
When Stephen stood before his bloodthirsty perse- 
cutors, he said, " Behold, I see the heavens opened, 
and the Son of man standing on the right hand of 
God." t 

Throughout those marvellous visions of the Apoc- 
alypse also, the reigning glory of the Infinite One 
uniformly finds its embodiment in a human face and 
human form. 

Indirect confirmation of all this is found, likewise, 
in the inspired statements of the apostle Paul : " For 
unto which of the angels said he at any time, Thou 
art my son ; this day have I begotten thee " ? " And 
again, when he bringeth in the first begotten into the 
world, he saith, And let all the angels of God worship 
him." " Unto the Son he saith, Thy throne, O God, 
is forever and ever ; a sceptre of righteousness is the 
sceptre of thy kingdom." J 

But, is it asked, has the invisible and infinite God a 
human form ? Nay, not as one might infer, perhaps ; 
but, nevertheless, he that sits upon the throne of God 
has a form, and that form is like the form of a man — 

* Ezek. i. 26. f Acts vii. 56. J Heb. i. 5, vi. 8. 



I96 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

it is the form of a man. And when we enter the 
spiritual and heavenly world, and are thrilled by the 
ineffable glory of God, and look to behold the gran- 
deur of his throne, before which all the nations are 
gathered, we shall see seated upon it — man.* 

We have reached this conclusion, then : that not 
only is the place of supreme authority on the earth 
occupied by humanity, but also the place of supreme 
authority in the heavenly world, at least according to 
the Scriptures, is also occupied by humanity — that is, 
by spiritual humanity. 

Before we can correctly infer the future relative 
position of our humanity, as now met with in this 
earth, namely, fallen humanity, it becomes necessary 
to introduce more positively a connecting link, know r n, 
in technical language, as Christology. 

At the outset, we find the heavenly throne occupied 
by a type of humanity. The Scriptures leave no 
doubt but that the one in whom the second person of 
the Trinity — the Logos element or capacity, from first 
to last (alpha and omega) — embodies himself, is 
identical with the Lord who appeared and talked with 
Abraham, and also identical with that being whom 
w r e call Jesus, who appeared in Judea eighteen hun- 
dred years ago, with this difference : that the spiritual 

* Does this thought suggest to any mind the idea of hu- 
miliation on the part of God? But the objection is univer- 
sal, and involves too much ; for whenever and wherever the 
infinite touches the finite, there is scientific humiliation, be 
it in the fashioning of lilies, the creation of worlds, the re- 
demption of man, or the occupancy of a throne in this or in 
the heavenly world. 



THE KING. I97 

humanity of this Wonderful One came into possession 
of physical humanity through Mary, his mother, 
somehow. 

Is this perfectly bewildering? Perhaps so. 

But the point of identity need not be perfectly be- 
wildering, if at least we are willing to rely upon bib- 
lical fact and history. 

Late in December, and during his early Judean 
ministry, our Lord crossed the rich plains to the 
south of Ebal and Gerizim, and rested on the broad 
curb of a well known as Jacob's. He w r as hungry 
and athirst. Memorable was the conversation that fol- 
lowed between himself and the woman of Samaria.* 

But nearly two thousand years before, during the 
heat of a midsummer's day, by the oaks of Mam re 
the Lord appeared, as a man to a man, and held 
familiar intercourse with Abraham. The words spo- 
ken and the acts performed w T ere as human as were 
those at the well of Samaria. And Abraham said, 
" My Lord, if now I have found favor in thy sight, 
pass not away, I pray thee, from thy servant : Let a 
little water, I pray you, be fetched, and wash your 
feet, and rest yourselves under the tree : And I will 
fetch a morsel of bread, and comfort ye your hearts; 
after that ye shall pass on ; for therefore are ye come 
to your servant. And they said, So do, as thou hast 
said. And Abraham hastened into the tent unto Sa- 
rah, and said, Make ready quickly three measures of 
flue meal, knead it, and make cakes upon the hearth. 
And Abraham ran unto the herd, and fetched a calf, 

* John iv. 



I98 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

tender and good, and gave it unto a young man ; and 
he hasted to dress it. And he took butter, and milk, 
and the calf which he had dressed, and set it before 
them ; and he stood by them under the tree, and they 
did eat."* 

During our Lord's ministry in Northern Galilee, 
upon the eve of a day in the month of April, he sent 
his disciples across the Sea of Tiberias. The fourth 
watch should have found them safely on the opposite 
shore ; but the waves were angry, and the winds tem- 
pestuous ; in consequence, they were still toiling in 
mid sea. " And," we read, " he saw them toiling in 
rowing; for the wind was contrary unto them: and 
about the fourth watch of the night he cometh unto 
them, walking upon the sea, and would have passed 
by them. But when they saw him walking upon the 
sea, they supposed it had been a spirit, and cried out. 
(For they all saw him, and were troubled.) And 
immediately he talked with them, and saith unto them, 
Be of good cheer : it is I ; be not afraid. And Peter 
answered him, and said, Lord, if it be thou, bid me 
come unto thee on the water. And he said, Come. 
And when Peter was come down out of the ship, he 
walked on the water to go to Jesus. But when he 
saw the wind boisterous, he was afraid ; and begin- 
ning to sink, he cried, saying, Lord, save me. And 
immediately Jesus stretched forth his hand, and 
caught him, and said unto him, O thou of little faith, 
wherefore didst thou doubt? And he went up unto 
them into the ship ; and the wind ceased ; and they 

* Gen. xviii. 2-8. 



THE KING. I99 

were sore amazed in themselves beyond measure, and 
wondered. For they considered not the miracle of 
the loaves ; for their heart was hardened. And when 
they had passed over, they came into the land of Gen- 
nesaret, and drew to the shore. Then they that were 
in the ship came and worshipped him, saying, Of a 
truth thou art the Son of God." * 

But, six hundred years before the Christian era, 
Nebuchadnezzar, the greatest and most powerful of 
the kings of Babylon, in a fit of violence and fury, 
heated to seven times its wont his furnace, and, while 
its fires were raging and roaring as the waves of the 
sea, he cast therein three worthy children of God. 
The king looked. The record describes the rest. 

u Then Nebuchadnezzar the king was astonished, 
and rose up in haste, and spake, and said unto his 
counsellors, Did not we cast three men bound into the 
midst of the fire? They answered and said unto the 
king, True, O king. He answered and said, Lo, I 
see four men loose, walking in the midst of the fire, 
and they have no hurt ; and the form of the fourth is 
like the Son of God. "\ 

It was also during this ministry in Northern Galilee, 
either for the sake of security or seclusion, that our 
Lord passed for a time into the confines of Tyre. 
While there he was met by a poor woman, who ac- 
costed him with words that sound strange enough on 
heathen lips : " Have mercy on me, Lord, thou Son 
of David ; my daughter is grievously vexed with a 
devil." Passionate was her appeal. In her agony 

* Mark vi. 48-53. Matt. xiv. 28-31. f Dan. *"• 2 4> 2 5- 



200 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

and importunity, she wrestled as if of giant's strength 
with one she could not appear to move. SeeVningly 
too long was that night of supplicating entreaty. But 
in the morning of her deliverance w T e hear the Mas- 
ter say, " O woman, great is thy faith : be it unto thee 
even as thou wilt. And her daughter was made 
whole from that very hour." * " And when she was 
come to her house, she found the devil gone out, and 
her daughter laid upon the bed." f 

But, many centuries before this triumph of the Syro- 
Phenician (princess) woman, was another conquest, 
which, in many respects, is not much unlike it. 

A small stream, rising near Rabbath Amnion, flow- 
ing into the Jordan, and separating North Gilead from 
South, or the kingdom of Og from that of Sihon, was 
known as the brook Jabbok. Over this, at nightfall, 
Jacob, staff in hand, passed into the silence and lone- 
liness beyond. There he was met by a man. Literal 
and typical both was that night-long struggle. The 
patriarch felt that he was in the presence of a power 
that could bless or curse. " Let me go," said the 
mighty stranger, " for the dawn ariseth." But Jacob, 
though disabled, still clung to his conqueror, and re- 
plied, " I will not let thee go except thou bless me." 
The stranger said unto Jacob, " What is thy name? 
And he said, Jacob. And he said, Thy name shall 
be called no more Jacob, but Israel : for as a prince 
hast thou power with God, and with men, and hast 
prevailed. And Jacob asked him, and said, Tell me, 
I pray thee, thy name : and he said, Wherefore is it 
that thou dost ask after my name? And he blessed 

* Matt. xv. 28. t Mark vii. 30. 



THE KING. 20I 

him there. And Jacob called the name of the place 
Peniel : for I have seen God face to face, and my life 
is preserved." * 

Is not the marked correspondence between this Lord 

* Gen. xxxii. 27-30. 

Note further parallelisms in the following passages : — 

11 And on the morrow, when they were come from Bethany, 
he was hungry. And seeing a fig tree afar off, having leaves, 
he came, if haply he might find anything thereon : and when 
he came to it, he found nothing but leaves: for the time of 
figs was not yet. And Jesus answered and said unto it, No 
man eat fruit of thee hereafter forever. And his disciples 
heard it." Mark xi. 12-14. 

" And presently the fig tree withered away." Matt. xxi. 19. 

" And the Lord said, Because the cry of Sodom and Go- 
morrah is great, and because their sin is very grievous, I will 
go down now, and see whether they have done altogether 
according to the cry of it, which is come unto me; and if 
not, I will know." Gen. xviii. 20, 21. 

44 Then the Lord rained upon Sodom and upon Gomorrah 
brimstone and fire from the Lord out of heaven ; and he 
overthrew those cities and all the plain, and all the inhab- 
itants of the cities, and that which grew upon the ground." 
Gen. xix. 24, 25. 



" Then said Jesus unto them again, Verily, verily, I say 
unto vou, I am the door of the sheep. All that ever came 
before me are thieves and robbers : but the sheep did not 
hear them. I am the door : by me if any man enter in, he 
shall be saved, and shall go in and out. and find pasture. The 
thief cometh not, but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy : 
I am come that they might have life, and that they might 
have it more abundantly. I am the good shepherd : the good 
shepherd giveth his life for the sheep. But he that is a hire- 
ling, and not the shepherd, whose own the sheep are not, 



202 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

of the Old Testament and Jesus of the New, even 
upon this hasty review, very surprising? Transpose 
the historic relations and they will each fill the place 

seeth the wolf coming, and leaveth the sheep, and fleeth ; 
and the wolf catcheth them, and scattereth the sheep. The 
hireling fleeth, because he is a hireling, and careth not for 
the sheep. I am the good shepherd, and know my sheep, 
and am known of mine." John x. 7-14. 

"Behold, I send an angel before thee, to keep thee in the 
way, and to bring thee into the place which I have prepared. 
Beware of him, and obey his voice ; provoke him not, for he 
will not pardon your transgressions : for my name is in him. 
But if thou shalt indeed obey his voice, and do all that I 
speak, then I will be an enemy unto thine enemies, and an 
adversary unto thine adversaries. For mine angel shall go 
before thee, and bring thee in unto the Amorites, and the 
Hittites, and the Perizzites, and the Canaanites, and the 
Hivites, and the Jebusites; and I will cut them off. Thou 
shalt not bow down to their gods, nor serve them, nor do 
after their works ; but thou shalt utterly overthrow them, and 
quite break down their images. And ye shall serve the Lord 
your God, and he shall bless thy bread, and thy water; and 
I will take sickness away from the midst of thee." Exodus 
xxiii. 20-25. 



"Then they went out to see what was done; and came to 
Jesus, and found the man out of whom the devils were de- 
parted, sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed, and in his right 
mind : and they were afraid. They also which saw it told 
them by what means he that was possessed of the devils was 
healed. Then the whole multitude of the country of the 
Gadarenes round about besought him to depart from them ; 
for they were taken with great fear." Luke viii. 35-37. 

"In the year that king Uzziah died, I saw also the Lord 
sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up, and his train filled 



THE KING. 203 

of the other. They both appeared in the form of 
humanity. They both left the glory of heaven to in- 
struct, encourage, and save mankind. They both acted 
the part of mediator. They both received divine hon- 

the temple. Above it stood the seraphims: each one had 
six wings; with twain he covered his face, and with twain 
he covered his feet, and with twain he did fly. And one 
cried unto another, and said, Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord 
of hosts : the whole earth is full of his glory. And the posts 
of the door moved at the voice of him that cried, and the 
house was filled with smoke. Then said I, Woe is me! for I 
am undone; because I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell 
in the midst of a people of unclean lips : for mine eyes have 
seen the King, the Lord of hosts." Is. vi. 1-5. 



" And it came to pass, about eight days after these savings, 
he took Peter, and John, and James, and went up into a 
mountain to pray. And as he prayed, the fashion of his 
countenance was altered, and his raiment was white and 
glistering. And behold, there talked with him two men, 
which were Moses and Elias, who appeared in glory, and 
spake of his decease, which he should accomplish at Jerusa- 
lem. But Peter and they that were with him were heavy 
with sleep : and when they were awake, they saw his glory, 
and the two men that stood with him. And it came to pass, 
as they departed from him, Peter said unto Jesus, Master, it 
is good for us to be here : and let us make three tabernacles ; 
one for thee, and one for Moses, and one for Elias : not 
knowing what he said. While he thus spake, there came a 
cloud, and overshadowed them : and they feared as they 
entered into the cloud. And there came a voice out of the 
cloud, saying, This is my beloved Son : hear him. And 
when the voice was past, Jesus was found alone. And they 
kept it close, and told no man in those days any of those 
things which they had seen." Luke ix. 28-36. 

" Then went up Moses and Aaron, Nadab, and Abihu, and 
seventy of the elders of Israel : And the^ saw the God of 



204 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

ors, performed divine acts, and spoke as only God has 
a right to speak.* Indeed, do they not seem to be the 
same essentially?! Paul we find distinctly declaring 
that they are identical. 

Israel : and there was under his feet as it were a paved work 
of a sapphire stone, and as it were the body of heaven in his 
clearness. And upon the nobles of the children of Israel he 
laid not his hand : also they saw God, and did eat and drink. 
And the Lord said unto Moses, Come up to me into the 
mount, and be there : and I will give thee tables of stone, 
and a law, and commandments which I have written; that 
thou mayest teach them. And Moses rose up, and his min- 
ister Joshua; and Moses went up into the mount of God. 
And he said unto the elders, Tarry ye here for us until we 
come again unto you; and, behold, Aaron and Hur are with 
you : if any man have any matters to do, let him come unto 
them. And Moses went up into the mount, and a cloud cov- 
ered the mount. And the glory of the Lord abode upon 
Mount Sinai, and the cloud covered it six days: and the 
seventh day he called unto Moses out of the midst of the 
cloud. And the sight of the glory of the Lord was like 
devouring fire on the top of the mount in the eyes of the 
children of Israel. And Moses went into the midst of the 
cloud, and gat him up into the mount : and Moses was in the 
mount forty days and forty nights. Ex. xxiv. 9-1S. 

* Outlines of Christian Theology. 

t We say essentially, because there were differences growing 
out of the nature of the case. The embodiment in the one 
case was spiritual, in the other case physical : the one con- 
dition could have felt nothing of the tendency given to the 
race in the transgression of Adam; the other condition con- 
nected w^th a body from a mother belonging to the fallen race, 
though probably among the purest and most perfect of all 
women, would seem to have been to some extent affected 
thereby. But that they are essentially the same is supported 
by the strongest evidence. 



THE KING. 205 

" Moreover, brethren, I would not that ye should be 
ignorant how that all our fathers were under the cloud, 
and all passed through the sea ; and did all drink the 
same spiritual drink ; for they drank of that spiritual 
rock that followed them ; and that rock was Christ." * 

Figurative, does some one say? Nay, why not real? 
for so our blessed Lord interpreted it. " Abraham 
rejoiced to see my day, and saw it ; " saw it two thou- 
sand years before the words were spoken in Judea ; 
saw it when he ate and drank with the God-man under 
the oaks of Mamre. 

But beyond all cavil are the explicit announcements 
of our Lord himself, that he was actually, personally, 
and consciously this Old Testament Jehovah, whose 
home was in heaven long before he came as the son 
of Mary. u These words spake Jesus, and lifted up 
his eyes to heaven, and said, Father, the hour is come ; 
glorify thy Son, that thy Son also may glorify thee : 
As thou hast given him power over all flesh, that he 
should give eternal life to as many as thou hast given 
him. And this is life eternal, that they might know 
thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom thou 
hast sent. I have glorified thee on the earth, I have 
finished the work which thou gavest me to do. And 
now, O Father, glorify thou me with thine own self, 
with the glory which I had with thee before the world 
was." f 

Does not this language show that Jesus Christ, as 
humanity, had an existence before he appeared upon 
the hills of Galilee or on the plains of Judea? Could 

* 1 Cor. x. 1-4. t J°h n xvii. 1-5. 



2o6 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

the deity of Christ have offered that prayer? Must it 
not have been, in all fair interpretation, none other 
than the pre-existent humanity of Christ, which said, 
iw Glorify thou me with thine own self, with the glory 
which I had with thee before the world was"? Upon 
that supposition all difficulties vanish ; on any other 
supposition are they not greatly multiplied ? 

Note also, as further evidence, the reply of Jesus to 
Nicodemus. " Verily, verily, I say unto thee, We 
speak that we do know, and testify that we have seen ; 
and ye receive not our witness. If I have told you 
earthly things, and ye believe not, how shall ye believe 
if I tell you of heavenly things ? And no man hath 
ascended up to heaven, but he that came down from 
heaven, even the Son of man which is in heaven. " * 

Upon this passage we can do no better than quote 
the comment of Dean Alford : " All attempts to ex- 
plain away the plain sense of this verse are futile and 
ridiculous. The Son of man, the Lord Jesus, the 
Word made flesh, was in, came down from, and was 
in heaven while here, and ascended up into heaven 
when he left this earth." 

Similar to this, also, is our Saviour's address to his 
wavering disciples, upon a certain occasion when 
many were leaving him. u Many, therefore, of his 
disciples, when they had heard this, said, This is a 
hard saying: who can hear it? When Jesus knew in 
himself that his disciples murmured at it, he said unto 
them, Doth this offend you? What and if ye shall see 
the Son of man ascend up where he was before?" 

* John iii. n-13. Note in this connection Deut. xxx. 4, 
xxx. 12, Rom. x. 6-S. 



THE KING. 207 

Notice the language: " What and if ye shall sec 
the Son of man ascend up where he was before.'* 
Can human speech be more exact? But we must 
pause, as there seems to be no end to these wonderful 
confirmations and correspondences ; in a word, the 
parallels run along respecting this chief of humanity 
in the Old Testament and in the New, the parallelism 
growing more and more striking, until it becomes, in 
the Lord Jesus, conscious identity ; and, accordingly, 
Jesus has thus expressed himself. His words upon 
this point are certainly more authoritative than the in- 
definite and misty generalizations of either extreme con- 
servatism or extreme radicalism. 

We have, therefore, the direct statements of Christ, 
and other explicit announcements of revelation, to- 
gether with Old Testament representations, and also 
the harmony and consistency of things, uniting in the 
assurance that the Son, in whom the Godhead dwelt, 
and who has been the glory of God for the past eigh- 
teen hundred years, was also the glory of God in 
heaven long before he appeared upon the hills of Gal- 
ilee and plains of Judea. He is now the glory^of God 
more than ever before ; * so much so, that God, with 

* This is certainly a natural inference. For Christ, both 
in his pre-existent and in his historic life, -was the image of 
God, the only special and personal image God has given the 
universe, except that we are fashioned after the same like- 
ness. When, in that anti-physical period of the universe, 
the Creator had reached this his appropriate tabernacle, the 
one embodying every imaginable perfection of spiritual cre- 
ation, the true King of the universe, the vicegerent of God in 
both the spiritual and physical worlds, whose identity in 
both worlds is consciously, and in consequence essentially, the 



2o8 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

all his rights and titles, has transferred himself into 
this one ; and he it is who has arisen from the dead, 
and ascended to heaven ; and whatever be the changes 
and transformations of the universe hereafter, he it is 
who will occupy the throne forever. 

And more than this, through his resurrection and 
exaltation all humanity, who will consent, and who will 
accept him, are also lifted into these same exalted rela- 

same, it was pre-eminently fitting that Deity should embody 
and enthrone itself therein. When this divine representative 
came to the earth, taking a physical body, with more or less 
of the pure physical human nature from Mary his mother, he 
lost nothing in nature, though something in circumstance, 
but gained much in character. Here was a humiliation in- 
volving advancement. Here was a humiliation of the in- 
dwelling Deity, it is true, but the spiritual tabernacle in which 
the Deity had pre-existed was exalted, on the other hand, by 
that connection with physical humanity; and no less, but 
more glorious will Christ appear, throughout eternity, on 
account of that connection. (Compare Heb. ii. 10; v. 8, 9.) 
In harmony with this are the usual methods of divine proce- 
dure. The case stands thus: Human physical nature, being 
created later than spiritual human nature, is greater than spir- 
itual human nature; though spiritualized human nature may, 
in the future transformations, be higher still; so, at least, we 
should naturally infer, for science informs us that the latest of 
a given type in the order of creation is the highest. 

But more than this : the humanity of this earth-born King 
we have seen, is not eternal, but the spirit that dwelt within 
him is eternal, because it is God. The humanity of the spir- 
itual and heavenly born King, we may likewise infer, was not 
eternal ; but the spirit that dwelt within him was eternal, be- 
cause it was God. The right of this one of Nazareth to oc- 
cupy the throne of humanity has, in time past, been disputed. 
Certain infidels, the world over and history through, have 



THE KING. 209 

tions with himself. " For we are made partakers of 
Christ." * " If children, then heirs, heirs of God and 
joint heirs with Christ." | u It doth not yet appear 
what we shall be, but we know that when he shall 
appear we shall be like him ; J and that is enough. 

We are now prepared to support the well nigh 
startling revelation of biblical theology already hinted : 
that fallen humanity, possessing the spirit of this ex- 
alted chief, is with him enthroned for the judgment 
and government of this universe ; or, in other words, 
fallen humanity in Christ is eternal and universal 
King. Our final appeal, in the settlement of all these 
grandest of questions, must of necessity be the holy 
and inspired Scriptures. 

There is but a single original passage which seems 
to oppose the view that humanity is the highest order 
of created intelligence, and therefore, by nature and 
by right, qualified to be inaugurated as king. In the 
Psalms we read, " When I consider thy heavens, the 
work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which 
thou hast ordained, what is man, that thou art mind- 
ful of him? and the son of man, that thou visitest 
him ? For thou hast made him a little lower than 
the angels, and hast crowned him with glory and 

contested his right to wield the sceptre; but he holds it still. 
The noblest and the best men of all times have been his sup- 
porters : the throne of Jesus Christ is now firmly established 
in this world so long as it shall stand. So Satan disputed 
his right to the throne long ages since; but dismal is the 
doom of all, first and last, who contend with the Son. 
* Heb. iii. 14. t Rom. viii. 17. 

X 1 John iii. 2. 



2IO THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

honor. Thou madest him to have dominion over the 
works of thy hands ; thou hast put all things under 
his feet: all sheep and oxen, yea, and the beasts of 
the field, the fowl of the air, and the fish of the sea, 
and whatsoever passeth through the paths of the seas.* 
This passage calls attention to two things : the 
starry heavens above man, and the majesty of human- 
ity within man. But the force of the original is not 
quite disclosed in the common translation. 

The word here translated " angels," a little lower 
than " angels," is " eloheim" which means God ; 
the great Hebrew scholar Gesenius accordingly trans- 
lates the passage thus : " For thou hast caused him to 
lack but little of (a) God." A literal translation like- 
wise is the following : " What is man ! and thou art 
mindful of him; and the child of man! thou visitest 
him, and hast created him but a shaving from Deity." 
So that this passage, upon the highest authority, turns 
out in support of the merited exaltation of humanity. 

But apart from this, the passages which directly 
declare that man, in his redeemed state, stands high 
above all created objects and beings in the universe, 
are both numerous and definite. 

First, taking Jesus of Nazareth as the representa- 
tive, we read, " God, who at sundry times and in 
divers manners spake in time past unto the fathers by 
the prophets, hath in these last days spoken unto us by 
his Son, whom he hath appointed heir of all tilings, 
by whom also he made the worlds ; who being the 
brightness of his glory, and the express image of his 

* Ps. viii. 3-8. Comp. Heb. ii. 6-9. 



THE KING. 211 

person, and upholding all things by the word of his 
power, when he had by himself purged our sins, sat 
down on the right hand of the Majesty on high ; being 
made so much better than the angels, as he hath by 
inheritance obtained a more excellent name than 
they." * 

Next, of those who have partaken of his nature, we 
read, " Know ye not that your bodies are the mem- 
bers of Christ? " f " What ! know ye not that your 
body is the temple of the Holy Ghost which is in 
you ? " I " He that believeth on me, the works that I 
do shall he do also ; and greater works than these 
shall he do/' § " And I appoint unto you a kingdom, 
as my Father hath appointed unto me, that ye may eat 
and drink at my table, in my kingdom, and sit on 
thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel." || 

" And I saw thrones," says the Revelator, " and 
the saints of God sat upon them, and judgment was 
given unto them."^[ " Do ye not know that the saints 
shall judge the world? and if the world shall be 
judged by you, are ye unworthy to judge the smallest 
matters?"** " Know ye not that ye shall judge 
angels ? " f f 

It is clear, therefore, according to biblical theology, 
that God is to share his chief glories, not with angels 
or archangels, but with men who prove themselves 
worthy. In humanity are found the sole heirs with 
Christ of this universe. It is humanity, and nothing 

* Heb. i. 1-4. f 1 Cor. vi. 15. J 1 Cor. vi. 19. 

§ John xiv. 12. || Matt. xix. 28. T R ev - xx - 4- 

** 1 Cor. vi. 2. ft 1 Cor. vi. 3. 



212 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

else, that has the grandest coat of arms worn in God's 
great empire — a coat of arms that need not be turned 
face to the wall, only as we, by a sinful life, disgrace 
our high ancestry. Man is kith and kin of the King 
Supreme. His is not patented, but is blood nobility. 
How noble-like and prince-like he ought to deport 
himself! The blood that is in the veins of the Lord 
Most High is in our veins ; it is human blood ; we 
are of one and the same family. No wonder that 
" he that hath the seven spirits of God, and the seven 
stars,'" after scanning the grandeurs and sublimities 
of things to us invisible, implored the church in Phil- 
adelphia to remain steadfast: u hold that fast which 
thou hast, that no ma7t take thy croiv7i" * No wonder 
that, when God announces that a man is born, the 
angels pause in adoration and amazement. And no 
wonder that, when God announces that a man is born 
again, the angels break their silence, and fill heaven 
with glad and triumphal shouts. \ Yes, everything, 
even angels, tell us that it is humanity which stands 
next to God, with nothing between ; it well nigh 
stands for God. " Ye are the light of the world." It 
is man for whom there is such intense anxiety in 
heaven. For man all the angels of God are minister- 
ing spirits, sent forth to minister to the heirs of salva- 
tion. And do not our own soul convictions, which, 
in our better moments, take possession of us, harmo- 
nize with these daring representations? Does not 
every man feel that there is nothing which can inter- 
vene between him and the Infinite? Are we not each 

* Rev. iii. I, 7, II. t Luke xv. 10. 



THE KING. 213 

" persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, 
nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor 
things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other 
creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of 
God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord"?* If de- 
feated, we are our own defeaters. 

Who is this great giant spirit of evil that sometimes 
flashes through the world, going about seeking whom 
he may devour, which we call the devil? But the 
weakest child of humanity can resist and conquer him, 
and put him into terrible confusion and flight. 

Or does liberalism insinuate that biblical theology 
places low estimates upon the power and majesty of 
humanity? We beg pardon, if there is anything to 
beg pardon for, but so-called free religion has not yet 
begun to dream of the exaltation of humanity as re- 
vealed in the Scriptures, and never will be able to 
realize it, until the light of Christianity shall be per- 
mitted to aid in its investigations. 

True it is, almost while we are in the act of think- 
ing of such exaltation and pre-eminence for humanity, 
that confusion and seeming discrepancy meet us. 
The image is blurred. Total depravity flaunts itself 
before us. Some poor sot, some wretch of earth, 
violent and fiendish, confronts us, and we ask, Is this 
— this thing — the son of a king, the heir apparent 
of a throne? 

But hold ! that is not humanity ; that is a wreck 
of humanity. We always say of such, His humanity 
is gone. And yet, even in that wreck is royal blood ; 

* Rom. viii. 38, 39. 



214 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

he is a prince, notwithstanding his fall ; to him can 
the line of undisputed royalty be traced ; so grand is 
he, even in his degradation, that his brother king left 
heaven to die for his restoration ; and God is willing 
to do anything to save him. 

The ignorance of humanity likewise aggravates and 
disappoints us. When we see parents murdering 
their children to propitiate the most ill-shapen images ; 
when we see men worshipping, not God, but an ox, 
nay, the image of an ox ; trembling, not before the 
great potentates of the world, but before a dog or a 
cat, and adoring deified garlic and onions, we almost 
loathe the race to which we belong. But there is 
more in all this than appears upon the surface. Those 
devotees look beyond the image, the ox, and the gar- 
lic ; they are inspired and terrified by invisible agen- 
cies. It is not what those men have not attained to, 
but what they are capable of attaining, that should 
impress us,' and fill us too, with awe and reverence. 

The crimes of humanity in civilized lands are like- 
wise appalling. How ungodlike they are ! Men are 
fired with ambition, and allow nothing to stand in 
their way ; they regard not man, and fear not God. 
But this aspiring soul which is " insolvent, and cannot 
satisfy its own wants ; " * which sees no station in life 
too high for its occupancy ; which feels an unholy 
pang whenever another holds a position higher than 
its own ; which " storms heaven itself in its folly ; " f 
which cannot see a sovereign without longing to be 
itself a sovereign, and sit umpire of the universe, — 
bespeaks for itself no grovelling, but lofty relationships. 

* Emerson. f Horace. 



THE KING. 215 

" Ambition," says Montaigne, " is not a vice of little 
people." What mean these sudden flashes of ambi- 
tious graspings for positions and authority, unless they 
disclose the outlines of a soul towering enough, if 
sanctified, to be a second God in the universe? 

Men likewise, while harboring revenge, commit 
wild and unsanctified deeds. Transgression, based 
upon revenge, is characteristic ; there is something 
contradictory in it. Bruyere is right in saying, " It is 
thorough madness that we hate an enemy, and think 
of revenging ourselves ; and it is thorough indolence 
that w 7 e are appeased, and do not revenge ourselves." 
Revenge is as insatiable as the grave. " Had all his 
hairs been lives, my great revenge had stomach for 
them all." * It is likewise deliberate when deepest. 
There is nothing heated, and nothing hasty. The 
violence of revenge is a cold and deliberative violence. 
It is madness, but a madness full of method. Such a 
man's sleep is* but the lull between storms. For 
twenty years will a revengeful man pursue the object 
of his hate ; never daunted, he will follow on, and on, 
until he faces his victim. When that hour comes, he 
will be in transports of malice ; he will impersonate 
revenge ; he will hesitate for a moment, as if it were 
too great a luxury to strike just yet ; he will torture 
his victim, and sip his sweet cup. He smiles as he 
smites. So long as the agonies of death can be 
traced in the victim, he is happy. 

But when they have ceased, and his fiendish life- 
work is done, then all things change. Through life 

* Shakespeare. 



2l6 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

the murderer had been developing unconsciously a 
sense of justice, a keen sense of justice, destitute of 
mercy. u Revenge," says Bacon, " is a kind of wild 
justice." And now this terrible justice, both wild and 
sensitive, reacts ; conscience becomes a pursuer, and 
the fires of hell burn so deep in that man's soul, that 
the appalling tragedy of his life ends only when his 
own life ends by the same hand that slew his foe. 

We see here, it is true, fiendish malignity ; but it is, 
nevertheless, the perversion of an ennobling sentiment, 
inherent in the soul of man. Sin, of all kinds, is, in 
fact, only the wreck of sublime virtues ; but it is an 
appalling wreck ; the revengeful character, if not per- 
verted, and if sanctified, would represent just resent- 
ment, to what is wrong, and a holy indignation against 
unrighteousness. Like the sword of justice, keen, but 
innocent and righteous, it would glisten only when es- 
pousing God's honor. It would be capable of announ- 
cing Jehovah's judgments, and could execute, with its 
own right arm, the sublimest behests of the Infinite One. 

No less awful is rebellion in the heart of man — 
that power which can say " No " to God's " Yes ; " 
which can curse God, though dying in the act. See ! 
there is a man who has but five minutes to live. God 
says, " Give me thy heart." He replies, " I will not." 

What ! what is this, which, amid such appalling 
scenes, can resist angels, principalities, powers, things 
present, and things to come, and God himself? What 
is this which can defy chains, and racks, and gibbets, 
and fires, and all the powers of universal nature? 
What art thou, immortal and invisible spirit, unless 
thou art — a God in ruins ! 



THE KING. 217 

Providence, too, is, or appears to be, singular in its 
assignments, if men are God's sons. She often puts 
them to employments that seem, at least, ill befitting 
to princes. They rarely are found in regal palaces, 
but are often seen tilling the soil, with brow not 
crowned with diamonds, but beaded with sweat and 
dust. They are seen plying the needle, with weary 
fingers and broken hearts ; are found toiling down in 
coal-pits, and, with grimy face and besmeared hands, 
are for years assigned the task of firing and driving 
the locomotive along dusty railways, in actual peril, 
and near possible death every day and every hour. 

Is not all this evidence of humiliation, rather than 
exaltation? True; so it seems, at least; but remem- 
ber the chief Prince himself touched the earth to rise 
again. Kings may be born in stables without preju- 
dicing in the least their titles.* In that act of tilling 

* "Oftentimes, at Oxford," says De Quincey, "I saw Le- 
vana in my dreams. I knew her by her Roman symbols. 
Who is Levana? Reader, that do not pretend to have leisure 
for very much scholarship, you will not be angry with me for 
telling you Levana was the Roman goddess that performed 
for the new-born infant the earliest office of ennobling kind- 
ness, — typical, by its mode, of that grandeur which belongs 
to man everywhere, and of that benignity in powers invisible, 
which, even in pagan worlds, sometimes descends to sustain 
it. At the very moment of birth, just as the infant tasted 
for the first time the atmosphere of our troubled planet, it 
was laid on the ground. That might bear different interpre- 
tations. But immediately, lest so grand a creature should 
grovel there for more than one instant, either the paternal 
hand, as proxy for the goddess Levana, or some near kins- 
man, as proxy for the father, raised it upright, bade it look 
erect, as the king of all this world, and presented its fore- 



2l8 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

the soil may be involved jthe preliminaries of future 
inauguration, if the work is faithfully done ; the coal- 
pit worker may be unconsciously furnishing supplies 
to light the Lord's house, upon the occasion of receiv- 
ing the throne and sceptre. No matter about the kind 
of work ; how the work is done decides its merit. 

The poor woman who stitches her life into her 
work at midnight may be finishing a robe for her- 
self so royal that no other fingers are fit to touch it, 
lest it be soiled. 

Surely our employments do not change our blood 
relations, and, through their tasks and daily work, 
whatever its character, and through all sorts of losses 
and temporary defeats, these royal sons of God will 
yet carve their way to thrones and empires. And 
often, very often, does not this princely character of 
man crop out, almost in spite of itself, even in the 
humblest avocations? 

John Manyard, a pilot on one of the fated steamers 
of Lake Erie, toiling summer and winter, and exposed 
to all weathers, scarcely seemed engaged in princely 
employment. But on board that steamer one day was 
heard the cry of fire ; the flames broke out amidships ; 
the captain gave command to head for the shore ; the 
passengers rushed to the prow of the boat ; John Man- 
yard was at the wheel ; the flames and smoke became 

head to the stars, saying, perhaps, in his heart, ' Behold 
what is greater than yourselves! ' This symbolic act repre- 
sented the function of Levana. And that mysterious lady, 
who never revealed her face (except to me in dreams), but 
always acted by delegation, had her name from the Latin 
verb (as still it is the Italian verb), levare, to raise aloft." 



THE KING. 219 

suffocating, driving him from the wheel-house farther 
astern ; there he adjusted the spare tiller, keeping the 
boat meantime headed for the shore ; the lives of all 
on board were in the hands of that rough, copper- 
faced man at the helm. Ten minutes ! If the boat 
could be kept headed for the shore, they were all that 
was needed to save every imperilled life. 

"John Manyard ! " shouted the captain. 

" Ay, ay, sir," was the reply. 

" Can you keep her headed as she is for ten minutes ?" 

" I'll try, sir." 

But every minute the flames and smoke increased, 
every minute saw the flames creeping onward towards 
this faithful pilot. 

"John Manyard ! " again shouted the captain. Ev- 
ery ear was strained, and caught the stifled — 

" Ay, ay, sir." 

" Can you keep her headed as she is for five min- 
utes?" 

And the quick ear of the captain just caught the 
response through the roaring flames, — 

" I'll try, sir." 

That was enough. The boat sped on. She veered 
not one inch from her course. A few fathoms more 
— the distance is passed ; the keel grates ; the shore is 
reached ; not one life is lost, — save that of the pilot, 
who was found burned to a crisp, but holding fast to 
the tiller. 

Does any aristocrat dare call that man a day 
laborer? — that man, who could trust his wife and 
children to God, and yield his own life, and stand at 
his post until his eyes were burned from their sockets, 



220 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

until the tiller burned under his hands, and whose last 
act, before his last breath, was to see if the boat was 
headed hard to the shore, and who would not allow 
himself the luxury of a death struggle, lest the course 
be changed. " Noble/' do you say? Ah! that is a 
tame word. 

And yet, that is but an illustration of what is 
hourly taking place on this earth ; the divine deeds 
of humanity, unseen by any eye save God's, crowd 
a pageless catalogue ; God notes t'hem, though, every 
one. We think we hear God saying to that pilot, 
" King John" Perhaps from fixed habit, and in 
the confusion of his first moments in the other world, 
John may have replied, " Ay, ay, sir ! " God does not 
mind the reply, but announces, loud enough for all to 
hear, " Thou hast been faithful over a few things, I 
will make thee ruler over many." The real helm 
which that pilot held in his hands during that peril- 
ous hour, was not the helm of that boat ; the real 
helm was an invisible one — the helm of roval state, 
of divine and eternal empire. Emperor I was that 
rough-faced but divine-hearted man of the sea. 

See, also, that grimy but smiling engineer, whose 
quick eye has discovered a child, unconscious of dan- 
ger, approaching the track : the speed of the locomo- 
tive is at its utmost ; the distances are well measured ; 
there is but one possibility. The noble man reverses 
his locomotive, then quickly glides along its side to a 
position of great danger, reaches out a strong arm, 
and catches the child when there are but twelve inches 
between it and death ; and when the train comes to a 
stand-still, he kisses the cheek of the child, thinking 



THE KING. 221 

the rosy lips too sweet and pure for his rough touch 
(they are not), sets it on its feet again, face home- 
ward, and whistles " off brakes." 

Three persons, a mother and her child, and a rough 
sailor heavily clad in pilot suit, w r ere found clinging 
to a floating settee after shipwreck. It would support 
two, until the life-boat came to the rescue, but not 
three. The sailor looked, struggled with the conflict- 
ing thoughts of life and death for a moment, then 
pushed off, threw up his hands, and sank into the dark 
sea ; the mother and child were saved. 

Is there not the presence of God in such sacrifice, 
tenderness, and nobility? The Infinite One and such 
conduct are one and inseparable, and must stand or fall 
together. Such men are God's princes, living under 
mask. There is more of Christ in the common walks 
of life than we give credit for; indeed, there is where 
Christ is most apt to make his stay. Could you look 
through the soot upon many a man's face, you would 
behold — a king. 

That pale-faced girl, — consumptive they called her, 
— w 7 ho had everything to live for, but who, recalling a 
dreary sickness, said, " I would have nothing other- 
wise, for so it has pleased my Father," was one of 
God's queens ; and they are everywhere, and often 
where we little expect to find them. 

Are we not sometimes lifted above our former theo- 
logical wonder that Christ should come to this earth and 
die for man ? Could the universe have well overlooked 
it in God had he not sent his Son to redeem such fallen 
majesty as is wrapped up in the humblest human intel- 
ligence ? Is there not good reason that God so loved 



222 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

the world as to give all, and submit to any sacrifice in 
its behalf? He seemed to say, Redemption for man, 
Redemption at any cost. 

We are walking daily in the midst of a royal family, 
and should have a smile of good cheer, and a bow of 
respect, for the woman who sweeps our house, or the 
man who heaves our coal, or paves our streets, for 
they may be kings and queens incog., and under masks ; 
they may be not one step farther removed from the 
throne than are the most honored of us. 

Three men appeared unto Abraham, but one was 
the Lord himself. Every man is greater than the 
house he lives in, and daily outgrows the garments 
and attainments of yesterday. " All things seem to be 
going about man's business, and not their own," * and 
no wonder. There is reason enough why the God-man 
walked this planet rather than any other. Emerson 
talks of most men as if they were " mice," and of most 
men and women as if only u one couple more ; " he 
cannot be speaking of capabilities, else he knows not 
of what he speaks. Give a man time enough, and dis- 
pose him to application, and there is nothing within 
the range of possibility but he can achieve.. Darwin 
is right in his estimate : u Man is the wonder and 
the glory of the universe." 

When Chevalier Bunsen said to his wife, " In thy 
face have I beheld the Eternal," he spoke as Christ 
seems to speak of men and women. We look with 
solemn reverence upon the mummy, even, and justly. 
" It has been a temple of God : the brain has been 
scooped out, but the hollow once echoed with invita- 

* Bacon. 



THE KING. 223 

tion to be just and pure." How wise the Scriptures 
are ! Less and less do sceptics cavil their old cavils. 
And yet not everything has been revealed. " It doth 
not yet appear," " It hath not entered into the heart of 
man ;" " thrones," " sceptres," " crowns," are — hints 
only. It is as if God had said, Wait, my children ; I 
cannot tell you all at present ; it is not best that you 
should know ; but remain true, be not engaged with 
trifles, swerve not, and it shall be better than your 
fondest dreams. 

With what startling words does revelation address 
men, ever urging them on to an almost restless devo- 
tion, expostulating with and imploring them.* It is as 

* Illustrative are the following: " For every house isbuild- 
ed by some man, but he that built all things is God. And 
Moses verily was faithful in all his house, as a servant, for a 
testimony of those things which were to be spoken after: 
But Christ as a son over his own house : whose house are we 
if we hold fast the confidence and the rejoicing of the hope 
firm unto the end. Wherefore, as the Holy Ghost saith, To- 
day if ye will hear his voice, harden not your hearts, as in 
the provocation, in the day of temptation in the wilderness : 
when your fathers tempted me, proved me, and saw my works 
forty years. Wherefore I was grieved with that generation, 
and said, They do always err in their heart; and they have 
not known my ways. So I sware in my wrath, They shall 
not enter into my rest. Take heed, brethren, lest there be in 
any of you an evil heart of unbelief, in departing from the 
living God. But exhort one another daily, while it is called 
To-day; lest any of you be hardened through the deceitful- 
ness of sin. For we are made partakers of Christ, if we hold 
the beginning of our confidence steadfast unto the end : While 
it is said, To-day if ye will hear his voice, harden not your 
hearts as in the provocation. For some, when they had 
heard, did provoke ; howbeit, not all that came out of Egypt 



224 THE ARENA AND THE THRONE. 

if the Creator had hung placards before us with the 
announcement, Wanted : A race of kings ! Volunteer, 

by Moses. But with whom was he grieved forty years? was 
it not with them that had sinned, whose carcasses fell in the 
wilderness? And to whom sware he that they should not 
enter into his rest, but to them that believed not? So we see 
that they could not enter in because of unbelief." (Heb. iii. 
4-19.) 

"But thou, O man of God, flee these things : and follow 
after righteousness, godliness, faith, love, patience, meek- 
ness. Fight the good fight of faith, lay hold on eternal life, 
whereunto thou art also called, and hast professed a good 
profession before many witnesses. I give thee charge in the 
sight of God, who quickeneth all things, and before Christ 
Jesus, who before Pontius Pilate witnessed a good confession, 
that thou keep this commandment without spot, unrebukable, 
until the appearing of our Lord Jesus Christ: which in his 
times he shall show, who is the blessed and only Potentate, the 
King of kings, and Lord of lords ; who only hath immortality, 
dwelling in the light which no man can approach unto, whom 
no man hath seen nor can see ; to whom be honor and power 
everlasting. Amen. Charge them that are rich in this world, 
that they be not high-minded, nor trust in uncertain riches, 
but in the living God, who giveth us richly all things to enjoy ; 
that they do good, that they be rich in good works, ready to 
distribute, willing to communicate; laying up in store for 
themselves a good foundation against the time to come, that 
they may lay hold on eternal life." (1 Tim. vi. 11-19.) 

"Finally, my brethren, be strong in the Lord, and in the 
power of his might. Put on the whole armor of God, that ye 
may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For we 
wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principali- 
ties, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this 
world, against spiritual wickedness in high places. Where- 
fore take unto you the whole armor of God, that ye may be 
able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to 
stand." (Eph. vi. 10-13.) 



THE KING. 225 

he seems to say, and the forces you need are yours. I 
have worlds enough for you to rule, when they are fitted 
up; can you count the stars? Archangels hold no 
positions to be envied by you. They are but God's 
ministers ; the thrones are yours. 

Immortals ! you who stand amid dilapidated ruins, 
whose walls are riddled with the enemies' artillery, 
look up ; above you is waving the banner of victory, 
bearing the sign of the cross. Issues which, without 
your consent, heaven itself cannot control, hang this 
moment pending your decision. 



*5 



APPENDIX. 



APPENDIX. 



A. (Page 14.) 

Dr. Chalmers, in some of the most wonderful discourses 
ever preached, both as regards majesty of thought and ele- 
gance of diction, has presented the affirmative of this ques- 
tion in the strongest possible light. They covered the 
preacher with a blaze of popularity, leading Mr. Wilberforce 
to say, that " all the world is wild about Dr. Chalmers." 
The following is a sample of his reasoning: — 

"The world in which we live is a round ball of a deter- 
mined magnitude, and occupies its own place in the firma- 
ment. But when we explore the unlimited tracts of that space 
which are everywhere around us, we meet with other balls 
of equal or superior magnitude, and from which our earth 
would either be invisible, or appear as small as any of those 
twinkling stars which are seen on the canopy of heaven. 

t ' Why then suppose," he continues, " that this little spot — 
little at least in the immensity which surrounds it — should 
be the exclusive abode of life and of intelligence? What 
reason to think that those mightier globes, which roll in 
other parts of creation, and which we have discovered to be 
worlds in magnitude, are not also worlds in use and in dig- 
nity? Why should we think that the great Architect of 
nature, supreme in wisdom as he is in power, would call 
these stately mansions into existence, and leave them unoc- 
cupied? When we cast our eye over the broad sea, and look 

- 229 



23O APPENDIX. 

at the country on the other side, we see nothing but the blue 
land stretching obscurely over the distant horizon. We are 
too far away to perceive the richness of its scenery, or to 
hear the sound of its population. Why not extend this prin- 
ciple to the still more distant parts of the universe? What 
though, from this remote point of observation, we can see 
nothing but the naked roundness of yon planetary orbs? 
Are we, therefore, to say, that they are so many vast and 
unpeopled solitudes? that desolation reigns in every part of 
the universe but ours? that the whole energy of the divine 
attributes is expended on one insignificant corner of these 
mighty works? and that to this earth alone belongs the 
bloom of vegetation, or the blessedness of life, or the dignity 
of rational and immortal existence? . . . Who shall assign a 
limit to the discoveries of future ages? . . . The day may yet 
be coming when our instruments of observation shall be in- 
conceivably more powerful. . . . We may see summer throw- 
ing its green mantle over these mighty tracts, and we may 
see them left naked and colorless after the flush of vegeta- 
tion has disappeared. In the progress of years, or of centu- 
ries, we may trace the hand of cultivation spreading a new 
aspect over some portion of a planetary surface. Perhaps 
some large city, the metropolis of a mighty empire, may ex- 
pand into a visible spot by the powers of some future tele- 
scope. Perhaps the glass of some observer, in a distant age, 
may enable him to construct a map of another world, and to 
lay down the surface of it in all its minute and topical varie- 
ties. But there is no end of conjecture, and to the men of 
other times we leave the full assurance of what we can assert 
with the highest probability, that yon planetary orbs are so 
many worlds, that they teem with life, and that the mighty 
Being who presides in high authority over this scene of 
grandeur and astonishment, has there planted worshippers 
of his glory." 

This same line of reasoning is thus stated by Figuier: — 
" What, the earth, that represents only a grain of dust lost 
in infinite space, shall it be the only seat of life, and shall 



APPENDIX. 23I 

planets a hundred times, a thousand times, fourteen hundred 
times larger, be only a vast grave, the one nothing in the uni- 
verse, the one empty edifice in the economy of nature ? Is life 
on our globe — that insignificant atom — to be heaped up, 
pressed down, and running over, filling everv space, so that 
not a corner of its surface is empty, while in the rest of the 
universe not a sign of life is discoverable?" 

Proctor, in " Orbs Around Us" presents the argument re- 
specting Jupiter in the following form : — - 

" The chief arguments for the habitability of Jupiter are 
founded on his enormous magnitude, and the magnificence 
of the system which circles around him. It seems difficult to 
imagine that so grand an orb has been created for no special 
purpose, and it is equally difficult to conceive what purpose 
Jupiter can be said to fulfil, unless he is the abode of living 
creatures. He is, indeed, an object of wonder and admira- 
tion; but the mind must be singularly constituted which can 
accept the view that Jupiter was constructed for no other end. 
When every object around us suffices to exhibit the omnipo- 
tence of the Creator, we require no such evidence as is af- 
forded by a globe exceeding the earth twelve hundred times 
and more in volume. The light afforded to us by Jupiter is 
so insignificant, also, that we cannot suppose him to have 
been created for no other purpose than to supply it. His 
influence in swaying the planetary motions is important, and 
he also appears to have a noteworthy influence on the sun's 
atmosphere ; but neither influence seems necessary to the 
well-being of the inhabitants of earth. Thus we appear 
forced to concede that Jupiter has been constructed to be the 
abode of living creatures, unless we suppose that his func- 
tion is to swaj' the motions of his satellites, and that these 
satellites are inhabited." 

The great mistake in this line of argument is, that while a 
true absolute estimate is placed upon Jupiter, the relative 
grandeur of humanity is entirely overlooked. If man is what 
we take him to be, and if he can measure and weigh the stars 
and planets, that of itself is, perhaps, enough. 



232 APPKNDIX. 

B. (Page 19.) 

" Plurality of Worlds " states these facts in a form to render 
them grand and imposing: — 

" The orbit of Saturn is ten times as wide as the orbit of 
the Earth ; but beyond Saturn, and almost twice as far from 
the Sun, Herschel discovered Uranus, another great planet; 
and again, beyond Uranus, and again, at nearly twice his 
distance, the subtile sagacity of the astronomers of our day 
surmises, and then detects, another great planet. In such a 
system as this, the earth shrinks into insignificance. Can its 
concerns engage the attention of Him who made the whole? 
But again, the whole solar system itself, with all its orbits 
and planets, shrinks into a mere point, when compared with 
the nearest fixed star. And again, the distance which lies 
between us and such stars shrinks into incalculable small- 
ness when we journey in thought to other fixed stars. And 
again and again, the field of our previous contemplation suf- 
fers an immeasurable contraction, as we pass on to other 
points of view." 

General Mitchell likewise speaks of these matters with the 
eloquence of one who appreciates them : " As we fathom the 
profundity of space, and visit the island universes that stretch' 
away in a vast illimitable perspective; when suns and sys- 
tems tower in grandeur on the right hand and on the left, 
and the vast of space teems with glittering worlds, like sands 
upon the sea-shore ; as we reach the nearest portion of that 
vast congeries of stars which we denominate the Milky Way, 
composed of not less than one hundred millions of suns; as 
we plunge yet deeper into space, and find other Milky Ways, 
grander and more populous in stars even than our own, until, 
at last, our telescopic ray extends so deeply that its length, 
furnishing a journey for the swift wing of more than three 
millions of years, fails to plunge across any other mighty 
depth, — then we are left to stand in a wondering and awe- 
struck silence upon merely the threshold of infinitude." 

Yes, if we are thus left, God's purposes may have been 
accomplished. 



APPENDIX. 233 

C. (Page 38.) 

The phenomena resulting from two suns shining upon the 
same planet, is well described by Figuier : — 

" What strange effects must these polychromatic suns pro- 
duce on the planets that they illuminate! As we know only 
our sun, whose light is white, it is difficult for us to imagine 
the odd consequences that must result from the illumination 
of a planetary globe and its atmosphere by the rays of blue, 
brown, or green suns. How queer the soil of these planets 
must look, the objects that stand on its surface, such as 
mountains and hills, and the rivers and seas, clouds and 
vegetation, when all are illuminated by a blue or red light, 
by floods of scarlet or indigo! We, who know Nature in no 
other guise but that which she wears on the globe in which 
we are confined, can hardly conceive of such effects. What, 
then, if we could imagine planets lighted during the same 
day by two successive suns of different colors! It is noon, 
and a blue sun inundates the globe with floods of its indigo 
light. The parts strongly illuminated are bright blue — a 
resplendent azure; those feebly illuminated are dark blue; 
the half tints are pale blue. Clouds, waters, and vegetation 
share the common hue. The stars are visible in the day- 
time, on account of the faint illumination of the heavens. 
But as the blue sun sinks, see its successor rise on the op- 
posite horizon. It is red, and purple flashes announce its 
coming. One would think that a mighty conflagration 
lighted up the east. While on this side of the horizon the 
purple spreads wider and wider over the heavens, the blue 
rays gather about the setting sun, and color the curves of the 
horizon with azure reflections. What a contrast between these 
two illuminations, on the two sides of the heavens! and, in 
the interval, what strange combinations must result from the 
fusion of these two lights, so diverse in tone ! We cannot 
hope to describe pictures, of which nothing around us can 
suggest even an approximate idea. The poet's imagination 
and the painter's art would be powerless to conjecture the 
marvellous effects that the palette of Nature realizes in these 



234 APPENDIX. 

enchanted regions. Where two suns, the one red and the 
other green, or even one brown and the other blue, succes- 
sively illuminate the same lands, what charming contrasts, 
what brilliant alternations, must be created by the fusion, 
which takes place at certain moments, of the red light and 
the green, or the brown light and the blue! O Nature, what 
wonderful aspects, what sublime perspectives, thou must put 
on, in those mysterious worlds, to charm the eyes of their 
fortunate inhabitants! And the satellites, the moons that 
light up the nights of their planets, what a strange spectacle 
must they present, in those strange realms where the eye is 
eternal ! The moon takes on in turn the hues of the two 
suns, which are reflected, one after the other, on its glow- 
ing disk. The phases of the moon seen by the dwellers in 
these worlds are now red, now blue : hence there is a red 
quarter of the moon, and a blue quarter. Such a moon has 
a brown crescent, which succeeds a green one. When it is 
at the full, the moon of these parts resembles an enormous 
green fruit wandering in the heavens. There are moons in 
shades of ruby, detached on the dark ground of the firma- 
ment. Others have opaline or azure reflections. Some glit- 
ter like diamonds in their circle around the planets, which 
are plunged in shade. O modest moon of ours! no doubt 
thy peaceful light speaks to our softened and thoughtful 
souls; but how much deeper must be the impressions, how 
far more potent the charm, earnest the admiration, and in- 
toxicating the reverence inspired in the dwellers in those far 
worlds, by the moons of ruby, sapphire, and emerald that 
illuminate the stillness and serenity of their nights! " 



D. (Page 44.) 

On September 7, 1871, Professor Young, of Dartmouth Col- 
lege, was observing a large hydrogen cloud by the sun's edge. 
This cloud was about one hundred thousand miles long; and 
its upper surface was some fifty thousand miles, the lower 
surface about fifteen thousand miles above the sun's surface. 



APPENDIX. 235 

The whole had the appearance of being supported on pillars 
ot fire; these seeming pillars being in reality rn r drogen jets, 
brighter and more active than the substance of the cloud. At 
half past twelve, when Professor Young chanced to be called 
away from his observatory, there were no indications of any 
approaching change, except that one of the connecting stems 
of the southern extremity of the cloud had grown considera- 
bly brighter, and more curiously bent to one side; and near 
the base of another, at the northern end, a little brilliant 
lump had developed itself, shaped much like a summer thun- 
der-head. 

But when Professor Young returned, about half an hour 
later, he found that a very remarkable chunge had taken 
place, and that a very remarkable process was actually in 
progress. " The whole thing had been literally blown to 
shreds," he says, " by some inconceivable uprush from be- 
neath. In place of the quiet cloud I had left, the air, if I 
may use the expression, was filled with flying debris, a mass 
of detached vertical fusiform fragments, each from ten to 
thirty seconds (i. e., from four thousand five hundred to thir- 
teen thousand five hundred miles) long by two or three 
seconds (nine hundred or thirteen hundred and fifty miles) 
wide, brighter, and closer together where the pillars had for- 
merly stood, and rapidly ascending. When I looked, some 
of them had already reached a height of nearly four minutes 
(one hundred thousand miles); and while I watched them, 
they rose with a motion almost perceptible to the eye, until, 
in ten minutes, the uppermost were more than two hundred 
thousand miles above the solar surface. This was ascertained 
by careful measurements, the mean of three closely accordant 
determinations giving two hundred and ten thousand miles 
as the extreme altitude attained. I am particular in the 
statement, because, so far as I know, chromatospheric mat- 
te** (red hydrogen in this case) has never before been ob- 
served at anj r altitude exceeding five minutes, or one hundred 
and thirty-five thousand miles. The velocity of ascent, also, 
— one hundred and sixty-seven miles per second, — is con- 
siderably greater than anything hitherto recorded. . . . As 



236 APPENDIX. 

the filaments rose, they gradually faded away like a dis- 
solving cloud, and at a quarter past one only a few filmy 
wisps, with some brighter streamers low down, near the 
chromatosphere, remained to mark the place. But in the 
mean while, the little " thunder-head " before alluded to had 
grown and developed wonderfully into a mass of rolling and 
ever-changing flame, to speak according to appearances. 
First, it was crowded down, as it were, along the solar sur- 
face ; later, it rose almost pyramidally fifty thousand miles 
in height; then its summit was drawn down into long fila- 
ments and threads, which were most curiously rolled back- 
wards and forwards like the volutes of an Ionic capital; and 
finally faded awaj', and by half past two had vanished, like 
the other. The whole phenomenon suggested most forcibly 
the idea of an explosion under the great prominence, acting 
mainly upwards, but also in all directions outwards, and 
then, after an interval, followed by a corresponding inrush; 
and it seems far from impossible that the mysterious coronal 
streamers, if they turn out to be truly solar, as now seems 
likely, may find their origin and explanation in such events." 

We are indebted to Professor Winlock, of Harvard Uni- 
versity, for the accompanying views of solar eruptions and 
flames. His means of taking and photographing such views 
are unsurpassed by any elsewhere in the world. 

It is with great pleasure, also, that we confess our obliga- 
tion to him for many valuable suggestions as to the data 
presented m the division of the book entitled "The Field." 

It is due to the professor to say, also, that for the scientific 
errors he will not be held responsible, and that had we fol- 
lowed his opinions more closely, we should have been less 
venturesome : especially should we have placed less stress 
upon the irregularity of motion among the fixed stars, since 
the orbits of at least two (as we have since learned) seem to 
most astronomers to be pretty well established ; but, on the 
other hand, we should have been far more emphatic respect- 
ing the planet Mars, for some of the statements of Mr. Proc- 
tor as to the climatology and inhabitability of that planet are 
treated by Professor Winlock as positively ridiculous. 



APPENDIX. 237 

E. (Page 44.) 

Professor Kirchhoff, in his chapter on the "Physical 

Constitution of the Sun," says, "The most probable suppo- 
sition which can be made respecting the sun's constitution 
is, that it consists of a solid or liquid nucleus, heated to a 
temperature of the brightest whiteness, surrounded by an 
atmosphere of somewhat lower temperature. This suppo- 
sition is in accordance with La Place's celebrated nebular 
theory respecting the formation of our planetary system. If 
the matter now concentrated in the several heavenly bodies 
existed in former times as an extended and continuous mass 
of vapor, by the contraction of which, sun, planets, and 
moons have been formed, all these bodies must necessarily 
possess mainly the same constitution. Geology teaches us 
that the earth once existed in a state of fusion; and we are 
compelled to admit that the same state of things has occurred 
in the other members of our solar system. The amount of 
cooling which the various heavenly bodies have undergone, 
in accordance with the laws of radiation of heat, differs 
greatly, owing mainly to the difference in their masses. 
Thus, whilst the moon has become cooler than the earth, the 
temperature of the surface of the sun has not yet sunk below 
a white heat. Our terrestrial atmosphere, in which now so 
few elements are found, must have possessed, when the earth 
was in a state of fusion, a much more complicated composi- 
tion, as it then contained all those substances which are vol- 
atile at a white heat. The solar atmosphere, at this time, 
possesses a similar constitution." 

The following views are taken from the address of Sir 
William Thomson, at the Edinburgh meeting of the British 
Scientific Association, 1871 : — 

" The old nebular hypothesis supposes the solar system, 
and other similar systems through the universe, which we 
see at a distance as stars, to have originated in the conden- 
sation of fiery nebulous matter. This hypothesis was in- 
vented before the discovery of thermo-dynamics, or the neb- 
ulas would not have been supposed to be fiery; and the idea 



238 APPENDIX. 

seems never to have occurred to any of its inventors or early 
supporters, that the matter, the condensation of which they 
supposed to constitute the sun and stars, could have been 
other than fiery in the beginning. Mayer first suggested 
that the heat of the sun may be due to gravitation; but he 
supposed meteors falling in to keep always generating the 
heat, which is radiated, year by year, from the sun. Helm- 
holtz, on the other hand, adopting the nebular hypothesis, 
showed, in 1854, that it was not necessary to suppose the 
nebulous matter to have been originally fiery, but that mu- 
tual gravitation between its parts may have generated the 
heat to which the present high temperature of the sun is 
due. Further, he made the important observations that the 
potential energy of gravitation in the sun is even now far 
from exhausted; but that, with further and further shrink- 
ing, more and more heat is to be generated, and that thus we 
can conceive the sun now to possess a sufficient store of en- 
ergy to produce heat and light, almost as at present, for sev- 
eral million years of time future. It ought, however, to be 
added, that this condensation can only follow from cooling, 
and therefore that Helmholtz's gravitational explanation of 
future sun-heat amounts really to showing that the sun's 
thermal capacity is enormously greater, in virtue of the mu- 
tual gravitation between the parts of so enormous a mass, 
than the sum of the thermal capacities of separate and 
smaller bodies, of the same material and same total mass. 

" For a few years, Mayer's theory of solar heat had seemed 
to me probable; but I had been led to regard it as no longer 
tenable, because I had been in the first place driven, by con- 
sideration of the very approximate constancy of the earth's 
period of revolution round the sun for the last two thousand 
years, to conclude that ' the principal source, perhaps the 
sole appreciably effective source, of sun heat is in bodies 
circulating round the sun at present inside the earth's orbit;' 
and because Leverrier's researches on the motion of the 
planet Mercury, though giving evidence of a sensible influ- 
ence attributable to matter circulating as a great number of 
small planets within his orbit round the sun, showed that 



APPENDIX. 239 

the amount of matter that could possibly be assumed to cir- 
culate at any considerable distance from the sun must be 
very small ; and therefore, * if the meteoric influx taking place 
at present is enough to produce any appreciable portion of 
the heat radiated away, it must be supposed to be from mat- 
ter circulating round the sun, within very short distances of 
his surface. The density of this meteoric cloud would have 
to be supposed so great, that comets could scarcely have es- 
caped as comets actually have escaped, showing no discover- 
able effects of resistance, after passing his surface within a 
distance equal to one eighth of his radius. All things con- 
sidered, there seems little probability in the hypothesis that 
solar radiation is compensated, to any appreciable degree, 
by heat generated by meteors falling in at present; and as it 
can be shown that no chemical theory is tenable, it must be 
concluded as most probable that the sun is at present merely 
an incandescent liquid mass cooling.' 

"Thus, on purely astronomical grounds, was I long ago 
led to abandon as very improbable the hypothesis that the 
sun's heat is supplied dynamically, from year to year, by the 
influx of meteors. But now, spectrum analysis gives proof 
finally conclusive against it." 

It is Professor Winlock's opinion that the sun is neither 
solid nor liquid, but gaseous throughout. 



F. (Page 46.) 

The following is the method by which Wolf is facetiously 
represented as reaching his conclusions : — 

4 'It is shown, in optics, that the pupil of the eye dilates 
and contracts, according to the degree of light it encounters. 
Wherefore, since in Jupiter the sun's meridian height is much 
weaker than on the earth, the pupil will need to be much 
more dilatable in the Jovial creature than in the terrestrial 
one. But the pupil is observed to have a constant propor- 
tion to the ball of the eye, and the ball of the eye to the rest 
of the body; so that, in animals, the larger the pupil, the 
larger the eye, and consequently the larger the body. As- 



24O APPENDIX. 

suming that these conditions are unquestionable, he shows 
that Jupiter's distance from the sun, compared with the 
earth's, is as twenty-six to five. The intensity of the sun's 
light in Jupiter is to its intensity on the earth, in a duplicate 
ratio, five to twenty-six. The eyes of the Jovians, and their 
dimensions generally, must be correspondingly enlarged, 
and it therefore follows that even Goliath of Gath would 
have cut but a sorry figure among the natives of Jupiter. 
That is, supposing the Philistine's altitude to be somewhere 
between eight feet and eleven, according as we lean to Bishop 
Cumberland's calculation, or the Vatican copy of the Septu- 
agint. Now, Wolfius proves the size of the inhabitants of 
Jupiter to be the same as that of Og, king of Bashan, whose 
iron camp-bed was nine cubits in length, and four in breadth; 
or rather he shows, in the way stated, the ordinary altitude 
of the Jovicolse to be i^^-^ Paris feet, and the height of Og 
to have been 13 }fff feet." 

Proctor shows, in the following manner, how easily an 
entirely different conclusion may be reached : — 

"We, on the other hand," he says, "are led to the con- 
clusion that the Jovicolse are pygmies, about two and a 
half feet, on an average, in height. For we know that a 
man, removed to Jupiter, would weigh about two and a 
half times as much as he does on our own earth. He would 
thus be oppressed with a burden equivalent to half as much 
again as his own weight. This would render life itself an 
insupportable burden : and we have to inquire what differ- 
ence of size would suffice to make a Joveman as active as our 
terrestrial man. Now, the weight of bodies similarly pro- 
portioned varies as the third power of the height. For ex- 
ample, a body twice as high as another in other respects 
similar, will be eight times as heavy. But the muscular 
power of animals varies as the cross section of corresponding 
muscles, or obviously as the square of the linear dimensions; 
so that, of two animals similarly constituted, but one twice 
as high as the other, the larger would be four times the more 
powerful. He would weigh, however, eight times as much 
as the other. He would therefore be only half as active. 
Similarly, an animal three times as high as another of sim- 



APPENDIX. 24I 

ilar build, would be only one third as active; and so on 
for all such relations. Now, since a terrestrial man, re- 
moved to Jupiter, would be two and a half times as heavy as 
on the earth, it follows, obviously, that a man on Jupiter, 
proportioned like our terrestrial men, would be as active as 
they are, if his height were to theirs as one to two and a half. 
Hence, setting six feet as the maximum ordinary height of 
men on earth, we see that the tallest and handsomest of the 
Jovicolse can be but two and a half feet in height, if only our 
premises are correct. Thus Tom Thumb, and other little 
fellows, if removed to Jupiter, might be wondered at for their 
enormous height, and eagerly sought after by any Carlylian 
Fredericks who may be forming grenadier corps out yonder." 

Other views have also been advanced, which we have no 
space to insert in full, snch as that the inhabitants of Jupiter 
are bat-winged; are inveterate dancers; that the bodies of 
the Jovials are composed of numerous convolutions of tubes, 
more analogous to the trunk of the elephant than anything 
else;* that they are pulpy, gelatinous creatures, living in a 
dismal world of water and ice, with a cindery nucleus;! 
that they may have their homes in subterranean cities 
warmed by central fires, or in crystal caves cooled by ocean 
tides, or may float with Nereids upon the deep, or mount 
upon wings as eagles. % 

It is amusing, in other respects, to note the diverse con- 
clusions reached by different writers. Emmanuel Kant, for 
instance, advances the theory that souls, in their imperfect 
state, start from the sun, travelling outward from planet to 
planet, and reaching paradise at length in the most remote 
and coldest planet of all. 

The astronomer Bode, on the other hand, represents that 
we start in our transmigratory journey from the remotest 
planets, advancing progressively from one planet to another 
towards the sun, which is the astronomical paradise and 
abode of the most perfect beings in creation. For which 
-views, see M. Flammarion's " Les Modes Imaginaires." 

* Sir Humphry Davy. t Whewell. X Brewster. 

16 



242 APPENDIX. 

There is another matter which Charles Bonnet, Dupont of 
Nemours, Jean Reynaud, Bode, Kant, and Figuier have in- 
troduced into the subject, which seems to us much out of 
place. It assumes this form : Though the astronomical 
bodies are uninhabitable by human agents, they are not by 
spiritual agents. They are therefore the abodes of our de- 
parted friends, and the homes of angels. 

It is our privilege here, as before, to conjecture anything 
we please. But, to be reasonable, we are compelled to say 
that the souls of the dead, and angelic existences, are not 
physical; consequently the condition of the planets and the 
stars, inhabited or uninhabited, can make no difference with 
angels and the spirits of the departed. Their homes, we 
can rest assured, are not upon any physical and material 
object in space. It is rather in the invisible and spiritual 
heavens, where there are "many mansions. " Elsewhere 
than in the starry heavens will unfold to the true children of 
God many vacant areas, upon which they can pitch their 
sacred and substantial pavilions. Though invisible to a 
physical eye, God will provide — has provided. The phys- 
ical universe is for other purposes, not for this. 



G. (Page 88.) 

Among those w r ho have tried to mitigate the circumstances 
attending the crime of Judas, W. W. Story has not been sur- 
passed, perhaps, especially in point of interest and inge- 
nuity. The title, " A Roman Lawyer in Jerusalem," is sug- 
gestive of his method of treatment. The following extracts 
will be of interest. First, the question at issue is stated: — 

"The question is, Did Judas, doing this, 
Act from base motives, and commit a crime? 
Or, all things taken carefully in view, 
Can he be justified in what he did? " 

Judas is then compared with the other disciples : — 



APPENDIX. 243 

"Those who went with him and believed in him 
Were mostly dull, uneducated men, 
Simple and honest, dazed by what he did, 
And misconceiving every word he said. 
He led them with him in a spell-bound awe, 
And all his cures they called miraculous. 

"'What! all — all fled ?' I asked. ' Did none remain?' 

" ' Not one,' he said ; i all left him to his fate. 
Not one dared own he was a follower; 
Not one gave witness for him of them all. 
Stop ! When I say not one of them, I mean 
No one but Judas, — Judas, whom they call 
The traitor, — who betrayed him to his death. 
He rushed into the council-hall, and cried, 
" 'Tis I have sinned — Christus is innocent.'" 

" 'The truth is truth, and let the truth be told. 
Judas, I say, alone of all the men 
Who followed Christus, thought that he was God. 
Some feared him for his power of miracles; 
Some were attracted by a sort of spell ; 
Some followed him to hear his sweet, clear voice, 
And gentle speaking, hearing with their ears, 
And knowing not the sense of what he said; 
But one alone believed he was the Lord, 
The true Messiah of the Jews. That one 
Was Judas, — ■ he alone of all the crowd.' 

" ' He to betray his Master for a bribe ! 
He last of all ! I say this friend of mine 
Was brave when all the rest were cowards there.' 

11 ; His was a noble nature : frank and bold, 
Almost to rashness bold, yet sensitive, 
Who took his dreams for firm realities ; 
Who once believing, all in all believed; 



244 APPENDIX. 

Rushing at obstacles and scorning risk, 

Ready to venture all to gain his end ; 

No compromise or subterfuge for him, 

His act went from his thought straight to the butt; 

Yet with this ardent and impatient mood 

Was joined a visionary mind, that took 

Impressions quick and fine, yet deep as life. 

Therefore it was that in this subtile soil 

The Master's words took root, and grew, and flowered. 

He heard, and followed, and obeyed; his faith 

Was serious, earnest, real — winged to fly ; 

He doubted not, like some who walked with him; 

Desired no first place, as did James and John ; 

Denied him not with Peter: not to him 

His Master said, " Away! thou'rt an offence; 

Get thee behind me, Satan ! " — not to him, 

"Am I so long with ye who know me not?" 

Fixed as a rock, untempted by desires 

To gain the post of honor when his Lord 

Should come to rule — chosen from out the midst 

Of six-score men as his apostle — then 

Again selected to the place of trust, 

Unselfish, honest, he among them walked. 

" 'That he was honest, and was so esteemed, 
Is plain from this, — they chose him out of all 
To bear the common purse, and take, and pay. 
John says he was a thief, because he grudged 
The price that for some ointment once was paid, 
And urged 'twere better given to the poor. 
But did not Christus ever for the poor 
Lift up his voice, — " Give all things to the poor; 
Sell everything and give all to the poor! " 
And Judas, who believed, not made believe, 
Used his own words, and Christus, who excused 
The gift because of love, rebuked him not. 
Thief! ay, he 'twas, this very thief, they chose 
To bear the purse, and give alms to the poor. 
I, for my part, see nothing wrong in this.' 



APPENDIX. 245 

M * But why, if Judas was a man like this, 
Frank, noble, honest,' — here I interposed, — 
1 Why was it that he thus betrayed his Lord?' 

" ' This question oft did I revolve,' said he, 

1 When all the facts were fresh, and oft revolved 
In later days, and with no change of mind; 
And this is my solution of the case : — 

11 ' Daily he heard his Master's voice proclaim, 
" I am the Lord ! the Father lives in me ! 
Who knoweth me knows the Eternal God! 
He who believes in me shall never die ! 
No ! he shall see me with my angels come 
With power and glory here upon the earth 
To judge the quick and dead ! Among you here 
Some shall not taste of death before I come 
God's kingdom to establish on the earth ! " 

" 'What meant these words? They seethed in Judas' soul. 
" Here is my God — Messias, King of kings, 
Christus, the Lord — the Saviour of us all. 
How long shall he be taunted and reviled, 
And threatened by this crawling scum of men? 
O, who shall urge the coming of that day 
When he in majesty shall clothe himself, 
And stand before the astounded world its King?" 
Long brooding over this inflamed his soul; 
And, ever rash in schemes'as wild in thought, 
At last he said, " No longer will I bear 
This ignominy heaped upon my Lord. 
No man hath power to harm the Almighty One. 
Ay, let men's hand be lifted, then, at once, 
Effulgent like the sun, swift like the sword, 
The jagged lightning-flashes from the cloud, 
Shall he be manifest — the living God — 
And prostrate all shall on the earth adore ! " ' " 



246 APPENDIX. 

The following extract from De Quincey will sufficiently 
express his effort to exonerate Judas : — 

"Everything connected with our ordinary conceptions of 
this man, Judas Iscariot, of his real purposes, and of his 
scriptural doom, apparently is erroneous. Not one thing, 
but all things, must rank as false which traditionally we 
accept about him. That neither any motive of his, nor any 
ruling impulse, was tainted with the vulgar treachery im- 
puted to him, appears probable from the strength of his 
remorse. And this view of his case comes recommended by 
so much of internal plausibility, that in Germany it has long 
since shaped itself into the following distinct hypothesis: 
Judas Iscariot, it is alleged, participated in the common de- 
lusion of the' apostles as to that earthly kingdom which, 
under the sanction and auspices of Christ, they supposed to 
be waiting and ripening for the Jewish people. So far there 
was nothing in Judas to warrant any special wonder or any 
separate blame. If 7ie erred, so did the other apostles. But 
in one point Judas went farther than his brethren — viz., in 
speculating upon the reasons of Christ for delaying the inau- 
guration of this kingdom. All things were apparently ripe 
for it; all things pointed to it; the expectation and languish- 
ing desires of many Hebrew saints — viz., the warning from 
signs; the prophetic alarms propagated by heralds like the 
Baptist; the mysterious interchange of kindling signals ris- 
ing suddenly out of darkness as secret words between dis- 
tant parties — secret question or secret answer ; the fermen- 
tation of revolutionary doctrines all over Judea; the pas- 
sionate impatience of the Roman yoke; the continual open- 
ings of new convulsions at the great centre of Rome; the 
insurrectionary temper of Jewish society, as indicated by the 
continual rise of robber leaders, that drew off multitudes 
into the neighboring deserts; and, universally, the unsettled 
mind of the Jewish nation, their deep unrest, and the anar- 
chy of their expectations. These explosive materials had 
long been accumulated; they needed only a kindling spark. 
Heavenly citations to war, divine summonses to resistance, 



APPENDIX. 247 

had long been read in the insults and aggressions of pagan- 
ism ; there wanted only a leader. And such a leader, if he 
would but consent to assume that office, stood ready in the 
founder of Christianity. "The supreme qualifications for 
leadership, manifested and emblazoned in the person of Je- 
sus Christ, were evident to all parties in the Jewish commu- 
nity, and not merely to the religious body of his own imme- 
diate followers. These qualifications were published and 
expounded to the world in the facility with which everywhere 
he drew crowds about himself, in the extraordinary depth of 
impression which attended his teaching, and in the fear, as 
well as hatred, which possessed the Jewish rulers against 
him. Indeed, so great was this fear, so great was this ha- 
tred, that, had it not been for the predominance of the Roman 
element in the government of Judea, it is pretty certain that 
Christ would have been crushed in an earlier stage of his 
career. 

<k Believing, therefore, as Judas did, and perhaps had reason 
to do, that Christ contemplated the establishment of a tem- 
poral kingdom — the restoration, in fact, of David's throne; 
believing also that all the conditions towards the realization 
of such a scheme met and centred in the person of Christ, 
what was it that, upon any solution intelligible to Judas, 
neutralized so grand a scheme of promise? Simply and 
obviously, to a man with the views of Judas, it was the char- 
acter of Christ himself, sublimely over-gifted for purposes of 
speculation, but, like Shakespeare's great creation of Prince 
Hamlet, not correspondingly endowed for the business of 
action, and the clamorous emergencies of life. Indecision 
and doubt (such was the interpretation of Judas) crept over 
the faculties of the Divine Man as often as he was summoned 
away from his own natural Sabbath of heavenly contempla- 
tion to the gross necessities of action. It became important, 
therefore, according to the views adopted by Judas, that his 
Master should be precipitated into action by a force from 
without, and thrown into the centre of some popular move- 
ment, such as, once beginning to revolve, could not after- 
wards be suspended or checked. Christ must be coiqgro- 



248 APPENDIX. 

mised before doubts could have time to form. It is by no 
means improbable that this may have been the theory of 
Judas. Nor is it at all necessary to seek for the justification 
of such a theory, considered as a matter of prudential pol- 
icy, in Jewish fanaticism. The Jews of that day were dis- 
tracted by internal schisms. Else, and with any benefit from 
national unity, the headlong rapture of Jewish zeal, when 
combined in vindication of their insulted temple and temple- 
worship, would have been equal to the effort of dislodging 
the Roman legionary force, for the moment, from the military 
possession of Palestine. After which, although the restora- 
tion of the Roman supremacy could not ultimately have 
been evaded, it is by no means certain that a temperamejitiun, 
or reciprocal scheme of concessions, might not have been 
welcome at Rome, such as had, in fact, existed under Herod 
the Great and his father. The radical power, under such a 
scheme, would have been lodged in Rome, but with such 
external concessions to Jewish nationality as might have 
consulted the real interests of both parties. Administered 
under Jewish names, the land would have yielded a larger 
revenue than, as a refractory nest of insurgents, it ever did 
yield to the Roman exchequer; and, on the other hand, a 
ferocious bigotry, which was really sublime in its indomita- 
ble obstinacy, might have been humored without prejudice 
to the grandeur of the i?nperial claims. Even little Palmyra, 
in later times, was indulged to a greater extent, without 
serious injury in any quarter, had it not been for the fem- 
inine arrogance in little insolent Zenobia, that misinter- 
preted and abused that indulgence. 

" The miscalculation, in fact, of Judas Iscariot — supposing 
him really to have entertained the views ascribed to him — 
did not hinge at all upon political oversights, but upon a 
total spiritual blindness; in which blindness, however, he 
went no farther than at that time did probably most of his 
brethren. Upon thein, quite as little as upon kim, had yet 
dawned the true grandeur of the Christian scheme. In this 
only he outran his brethren — that, sharing, in their blind- 
ness,, he greatly exceeded them in presumption. All alike 



APPENDIX. 249 

had imputed to their Master views utterly irreconcilable with 
the grandeur of his new and heavenly religion. It was no 
religion at all which they, previously to the crucifixion, sup- 
posed to be the object of Christ's teaching; it was a mere 
preparation for a pitiably vulgar scheme of earthly aggran- 
dizement. But, whilst the other apostles had simply failed 
to comprehend their Master, Judas had presumptuously as- 
sumed that he did comprehend him, and understood his 
purposes better than Christ himself. His object was auda- 
cious in a high degree, but (according to the theory which I 
am explaining) for that very reason not treacherous at all. 
The more that he was liable to the approach of audacity, the 
less can he be suspected of perfidy. He supposed himself 
executing the very innermost purposes of Christ, but with 
an energy which it was the characteristic infirmity of Christ 
to want. He fancied that by his vigor of action were fulfilled 
those great political changes which Christ approved, but 
wanted audacity to realize. His hope was, that, when at 
length actually arrested by the Jewish authorities, Christ 
would no longer vacillate; he would be forced into giving 
the signal to the populace of Jerusalem, who would then rise 
unanimously, for the double purpose of placing Christ at 
the head of an insurrectionary movement and of throwing 
off the Roman yoke. As regards the worldly prospects of 
this scheme, it is by no means improbable that Iscariot was 
right. It seems, indeed, altogether impossible that he, who 
(as the treasurer of the apostolic fraternity) had in all like- 
lihood the most of worldly wisdom, and was best acquainted 
with the temper of the times, could have made any gross 
blunder as to the wishes and secret designs of the populace 
in Jerusalem." 

John Henry Newman and Archbishop Whately present 
nothing essentially different in their treatment of the case. 
The chief trouble with all these views is a vital one, namely, 
they are not in harmony with scriptural representation. It is 
about equally easy to explain away the deviltry of the devil, 
as thus to excuse the treachery of Judas. 



25O APPENDIX. 

H. (Page no.) 

The description given of the murder, by Mr. Webster, in 
the trial of the Knapps, applies to every guilty person when 
conscience is aroused : — 

11 He has done the murder. No eye has seen him. No ear 
has heard him. The secret is his own. and it is safe. Ah, 
gentlemen, that was a dreadful mistake. Such a secret can 
be safe nowhere. The whole creation of God has neither 
nook nor corner where the guilty can bestow it, and say it is 
safe. Not to speak of that eye which pierces through all dis- 
guises, and beholds everything as in the splendor of noon, 
such secrets of guilt are never safe from detection, even by 
men. True it is, generally speaking, that " murder will out." 
True it is that Providence hath so ordained, and doth so gov- 
ern things, that those who break the great law of Heaven, by 
shedding man's blood, seldom succeed in avoiding discovery. 
Especially in a case exciting so much attention as this, dis- 
covery must come, and will come, sooner or later. A thou- 
sand eyes turn at once to explore every man, every thing, 
every circumstance connected with the time and place. A 
thousand ears catch every whisper. A thousand excited 
minds intensely dwell on the scene, shedding all their light, 
and ready to kindle the slightest circumstance into a blaze 
of discovery. Meantime the guilty soul cannot keep its own 
secret. It is false to itself; or, rather, it feels an irresistible 
impulse of conscience to be true to itself. It labors under 
its guilty possession, and knows not what to do with it. The 
human heart was not made for the residence of such an in- 
habitant. It finds itself preyed on by a torment which it 
dares not acknowledge to God or man. A vulture is devour- 
ing it, and it can ask no sympathy or assistance, either from 
heaven or earth. The secret which the murderer possesses 
soon comes to possess him; and, like the evil spirit of which 
we read, it overcomes him, and leads him withersoever it 
will. He feels it beating at his heart, rising to his throat, 
and demanding disclosure, He thinks the whole world sees 
it in his face", reads it in his eyes, and almost hears its work- 



APPENDIX. 251 

ings in the very silence of his thoughts. It has become his 
master. It betrays his discretion, it breaks down his cour- 
age, it conquers his prudence. When suspicion from with- 
out begin to embarrass him, and the net of circumstance to 
entangle him, the fatal secret struggles with still greater vio- 
lence to burst forth. It must be confessed, it will be con- 
fessed ; there is no refuge from confession but suicide, and 
suicide is confession." 

Shakespeare depicts no less vividly the working of a guilty 
conscience : — 

" O coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me ! — 
The lights burn blue. — It is now dead midnight. 
Cold, fearful drops stand on my trembling flesh. 
What do I fear? Myself? There's none else by! 
Richard loves Richard; that is, I am I. 
Is there a murderer here? No : — yes ; I am. 
Then fly. What, from myself? Great reason; why? 
Lest I revenge. What! myself upon tnyself? 
I love myself. Wherefore? for any good 
That I myself have done unto myself? 
O, no : alas ! I rather hate myself 
For hateful deeds committed by myself. 
I am a villain : yet I lie ; I am not. 
Fool, of thyself speak well. Fool, do not flatter. 
My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, 
And every tongue brings in a several tale, 
And every tale condemns me for a villain. 
Perjury, perjury, in the high'st degree; 
Murder, stern murder, in the dir'st degree; 
All several sins, all used in each degree, 
Throng to the bar, crying all — Guilty ! guilty ! 
I shall despair. — There is no creature loves me; 
And if I die, no soul will pity me : — 
Nay, wherefore should they? since that I myself 
Find in nryself no pity for myself. 
Methought the souls of all that I had murdered 
Came to my tent; and every one did threat 
To-morrow's vengeance on the head of Richard." 



252 APPENDIX. 



I. (Page 120.) 

Wemyss states some things respecting the Book of Job so 
fairly that we cannot well forbear direct quotation : — 

"DESIGN OF THE BOOK. 

"That temporal calamities are not always sent as punish- 
ments of sin, but simply as trials of faith and patience, and 
as instructive examples to others. That submission to the 
will of Heaven is not only the indispensable duty of afflicted 
persons, but the most probable means of procuring their de- 
liverance and restoration. That God doth not willingly 
afflict the children of men, but has always some higher pur- 
pose in view, — that his administration of the world must be 
an equitable one, since it could be no profit to him to oppress 
his creatures, — thai God deals with every being in his im- 
mense family in a manner suited to its nature, wants, and 
destination, — that in his sight nothing is too lofty, nothing 
too low; that the hawk flies by his wisdom, and the eagle 
soars at his command; that even the frightful crocodile and 
the huge rhinoceros are the objects of his care, and master- 
pieces of divine workmanship. That pain, disease, poverty, 
bereavement, in every case, have some higher end than the 
mere arbitrary infliction of calamity, — that the sum and 
substance of human comfort, in times of trial, is a humble but 
firm confidence in God, — that the divine eye is always open 
and attentive to the affairs and actions of his human off- 
spring, and that there is a close connection between the divine 
superintendence and the subordinate causes and effects that 
arise in the natural and moral world. That God needs not 
t'.ie vindication of his character by his creatures, but can 
always undertake his own defence; that as the prosperity of 
the wicked is not of long duration, so neither is the calamity 
of the righteous; that the wicked are sometime;-: exalted, 
only to make their fall more conspicuous; that -the righteous 
are sometimes depressed and apparently deserted only to 
make the divine regard for them more eminently and trium- 



APPENDIX. 253 

phantly seen. Such are some of the principal maxims which 
it appears to be the design of the book to inculcate. The 
whole seems intended to demonstrate the insufficiency of 
human reason, and the rashness of men, whether in attempt- 
ing to fathom the depths of divine Providence in the govern- 
ment of the universe, or in pronouncing dogmatically on the 
causes of the happiness or misery of individual men. 

li All this is effected, not in a dry. formal, didactic way, but 
by means of an animated and prolonged discussion, each 
speaker taking his turn, and all being seated, according to the 
manner of the East. The whole is carried on in a style 
highly figurative and poetical, and embellished with a profu- 
sion of splendid images. Each speaker, as is common in 
such discussions, is represented as retaining his own opin- 
ions. An interlocutor appears, and places the subject in a 
different light. He is interrupted by the appearance of the 
Deity. A thunder-storm is formed in the distance, and draws 
nearer. A profound silence reigns throughout nature; at 
length an awful peal is heard ; the cloud bursts, and there 
proceeds from it a majestic voice, which, in a series of unan- 
swerable interrogations, makes manifest that his power is 
irresistible and his counsels inscrutable; that the first and 
best duty of his creatures is unreserved submission to his 
will, and an entire confidence in his decisions. The whole is 
calculated to produce the deepest humility in man, and to 
lead to the most exalted conceptions of God. 

"Thus the book is a continual and enduring lesson on the 
providence of the Creator and our dependence, — on his 
power and our weakness, — on his greatness and our noth- 
ingness. 

" Besides all this, the book has singular attractions, on 
account of its prodigious antiquity, being by far the oldest of 
all the books that have come down to our times, and includ- 
ing fragments of didactic poetry which probably belonged to 
the antediluvian period. It is also a kind of patriarchal en- 
cyclopaedia, as containing distinct, though brief, traces of 
philosophy, morals, and history, as existing in these remote 
ages. The reader is transported into a distant land, in times 



254 APPENDIX. 

not far removed from the cradle of the human race; he finds 
himself in a new region, amongst men and manners previ- 
ously unknown. Everj'thing wears a primitive, simple, and 
foreign aspect. The countenance of the people is grave, 
theii manner dignified, their speech oracular. The fire and 
eagerness of the Eastern character are ready to burst forth, 
bat the calmness and philosophy of the sage repress them. 
Their religious views are simple, but sublime : they know 
God, and revere him; and each, in his own way, is indignant 
at any attack made on the equity of the Supreme Governor; 
but they know nothing of the immortality of the soul, or of 
a world to come. Neither do they seem to have had any 
glimpse of a Redeemer, unless it were through the medium 
of the one rite of sacrifice, of which they would probably 
inquire the meaning, or they might learn traditionally the 
early promise of the victory to be obtained, at some future 
period, over the serpent, by the woman's seed. Of all this, 
however, there is no trace in the book. 

i4 To those who have suffered affliction, and whose tranquil- 
lity has been repeatedly broken by painful visitations, this 
book affords inestimable resources in the w r ay of consola- 
tion; and to those who are of a contemplative and serious 
mind, there is no work more fit to make us feel the inanity 
of all human things, to detach our hearts from present 
scenes, and to direct our thoughts towards a better world." 

" IT IS NOT A DRAMATIC COMPOSITION. 

'• The book has been supposed by some to possess a dra- 
matic character ; but this opinion is contradicted by the stvle 
of the commencement and close, which are undoubtedly nar- 
rative; also by the regular intervention of the historian him- 
self at the beginning of every speech, to inform us of the 
name of the speaker. Besides, there is no action in the work, 
and action is essential to the drama : all is still and quiet, 
and exhibits merely the tenor of ordinary colloquy. Long 
discourses of an argumentative kind, and proverbial sen- 
tences, constitute the essence of the book. There is a certain 



APPENDIX. 255 

kind of division and arrangement in the conferences, but 
there are no scenes, in the dramatic sense of that term. We 
have a meeting of eastern sages, who dispute about the order 
of Providence, as exemplified in the patriarch's case; a sort 
of contest on the real cause of God's visitation of Job ; con- 
sequently there is no drama. 

k< Neither is it necessary to characterize the composition far- 
ther than by saying that, except its exordium and its close, it 
is undoubtedly poetical from beginning to end : and some 
persons, such as Jerome, go so far as to say, that it is written 
in hexameter verses, consisting of dactyls and spondees; bit 
this is an assertion difficult to verify, as we have long since 
lost the true pronunciation of the Hebrew language. Jerome 
himself acknowledges that other feet frequently occur, and 
that the measure of the verses often differs in the number of 
the syllables of the several feet. We consider the whole of 
this as matter of conjecture. 

''As to the form of its composition, consisting of several 
discourses, delivered by different interlocutors, and which ap- 
pear too refined and sublime for mere extemporary effusions, 
the Orientals were well known to have been fond of such meet- 
ings, and of holding long conversations and reasonings, in ele- 
vated expressions and proverbial phrases, proposed and an- 
swered with an eloquent facility. We are not bound to sup- 
pose that these conferences were held at one sitting, but took 
place according to the feelings and convenience of the sever- 
al speakers. It is not at all probable that the whole hap- 
pened without interruption, rest, or refreshment. If the 
friends, during the first interview, remained seven days and 
seven nights, without speaking a word, the subsequent dis- 
courses must have taken place after certain intervals. Of 
these discourses there are nine series, each of which must 
have occupied at least one day. in the slow, deliberate, and 
sententious manner of Eastern conversation and discussion, 
which has more of the solemn and oracular form than is con- 
sistent with our modern flippancy and fluency. Nor would it 
be surprising if the space of one day at least intervened be- 
tween these different conferences, or even more than that; 



256 APPENDIX. 

and it is scarcely to be thought that Job's disease would allow 
him to carry on such frequent colloquies, without intermis- 
sions of repose. However this may be, there is a perfect 
unity of design in the whole composition ; and whether viewed 
in the light of a merely literary production, an inspired nar- 
rative, or a faithful record of actual facts, it carries with it all 
the marks of a very remote antiquity. 

" Still there are some parts of the book which have much of 
a dramatic character. The three friends recite their parts. 
Job replies to each of them in turn. Nothing is decided or 
brought to issue. At length a spectator interferes, and cour- 
teously begs leave to take a part, after the others had exhaust- 
ed their materials of disputation. He speaks well, but not 
with sufficient authority to close the controversy. At last the 
Almighty interposes, pronounces sentence on all parties, and 
awards each his due. This is the fi?iale, or winding up of 
the scene. It is to be inferred, too, from several passages, 
that an audience was present at the whole debate, who, no 
doubt, took a lively interest in the scene, their sympathies 
being roused or repressed according to the convictions pro- 
duced in their minds by the different speakers in their turn. 

" But though all this be true, still, to call the poem a dra- 
ma, or a tragedy, or the like, would be highly absurd, since 
that species of composition was utterly unknown in Job's 
day, and was a modern invention of the Greeks, who lived 
near the 100th Olympiad ; that is to say, which was not known 
till about four centuries before the birth of Jesus Christ. 
Epigenes or Thespis being the first inventors of Tragedy, and 
Eupolis or Cratinus those of Comedy, more than two thou- 
sand years after the computed time of Job. 

" Were the book a mere dramatic composition, the work 
of some unknown poet, it would not have been written as it 
is; for Poetry, like Painting, endeavors to conceal the de- 
fects of its subject, by throwing some drapery over them ; 
whereas, here we have not only represented to us Job's 
patience, but his impatience. — not merely his resignation, 
but his murmurs. — not simply his faith, but his despair. 
He feels everything with deep sensibility ; he passes rapid l y 



APPENDIX. 257 

from one passion to its contrary; he is now irritated, then 
calmed ; now he implores pity, then he demands justice ; 
he now addresses God as a tender father, then he com- 
plains of him as a severe master; he loves life, and yet he 
sighs for death; he smiles on meeting with a sepulchre, he 
shudders on the brink of a tomb. His weaknesses are brought 
out fully on the canvas; and this is the supreme beauty of 
Holy Writ, in all its parts, that there is no attempt made to 
conceal human deformity, anymore than to exaggerate it; 
the only anxiety of Scripture being to do justice to the Divine 
character, to represent the great Parent in endearing aspects, 
and to vindicate the ways of God to man." 

"JOB A REAL PERSON. 

"Whether such a personage as Job ever existed has been 
made a matter of dispute by some; but the affirmative side 
of the question appears plain, when we find him ranked by 
Ezekiel with Noah and Daniel (chap. xiv. 14, 20), and re- 
ferred to, in the most explicit manner, by James (chap. v. 11), 
who, wishing to recommend patience by an example, referred 
his countrymen to this book. 

" Besides this, his country and his circumstances being so 
particularly described, together with the names of his friends, 
and those of his family, we cannot help concluding that it is 
to be considered as a real history. Their discourses, too, are 
distinctly set down, and are specially directed to the condition 
in which he was placed. 

" Nor would the example of a fictitious character carry with 
it half the weight in inculcating the virtue of patience, or any 
other virtue, as that of a real sufferer, distinguished by the 
magnanimous feeling and elevated understanding which are 
here attributed to Job. . Viewing him as a person who once 
actually existed, this book is exactly the memorial which he 
himself wished for; a memorial more permanent than any 
that could be engraved in brass, or carved on a rock. The 
memorial is interwoven with the sacred canon, and has been, 
and will be, handed down to all generations who are made 
acquainted with the law of God. 

17 



258 APPENDIX. 

"If the silence of other sacred writers respecting Job be 
remarked, let it first be inquired, whether they knew anything 
of his history, and whether they were under any obligation 
to mention it. 

"The history of Job is too circumstantial to be a mere 
fiction. Not only is his name given, and the place of his 
abode, but his dispositions, his integrity, his faith, his pa- 
tience, his dignity, his fortitude, are all distinctly exempli- 
fied. Even his failings are enumerated, and his murmurs as 
carefully recorded as his thanksgivings. We have also the 
names and lineage of his friends, the numbers of his chil- 
dren, the names of his latest daughters, the age which he 
arrived at, — all of them bearing marks of a real and verita- 
ble history rather than of a fictitious narrative. Arabian 
writers, too, and the Koran in particular, always make men- 
tion of Job as a real person, whose descendants were consid- 
ered as remaining among them at a late period; and his 
grave is shown in the East at this day. That it is shown in 
six different places, just as seven cities contended for the 
honor of being viewed as the birthplace of Homer, does not 
invalidate, but confirm, the fact of his existence. The most 
celebrated tomb is that of the Trachonites, towards the 
springs of Jordan. It is situated between the cities still 
bearing the names of Teman, Shuah, and Naama. There is 
another tomb publicly shown for that of the patriarch, in 
Armenia; and a third near the walls of Constantinople ; 
which last more probably belonged to an Arabian warrior of 
the same name, who fell at the siege of that city, in 672." 

"THE MORALITY OF JOB. 

"The severe charges against his character, either directly 
or by marked insinuation, made by Job's professed friends, in 
the course of their dialogues with him, obliged the holy patri- 
arch to enter into a vindication of himself, and to appeal to 
his former conduct during the season of his prosperity. From 
this vindication we learn what his moral principles were, 
and they appear less to resemble those involved in the code 



APPENDIX. 259 

of laws given to Moses, than those promulgated in the Ser- 
mon on the Mount by Jesus Christ. The Decalogue says, 
* Thou shalt not commit adultery; ' in which form of expres- 
sion we recognize a prohibition of the actual crime, but no 
reference to the inward sentiment. In the law of Christ, not 
only is the actual crime forbidden, but the unchaste desire of 
the mind, which is the embryo of the overt act. (Matt. v. 28.) 
In exact conformity to which, we find the patriarch saying, 
chap. xxxi. 1, — 

' 1 made a covenant with mine eyes, 
That I would not gaze upon a virgin. 
For what portion should I then have in God, 
Or what inheritance of the Almighty from on high?' 

And this he grounds upon two considerations — the conse- 
quences of transgression, and the omniscience of God: — 

* Doth not destruction follow the wicked, 
And shame pursue the workers of iniquity? — 
Doth not the Eternal see my ways, 
And number all my footsteps ?' 

He goeth farther than this, and not merely disclaims all 
mental impurity which might be excited by the contempla- 
tion of virgin beauty, but denies that still baser feeling which 
might prompt to the destruction of another's conjugal hap- 
piness : — 

1 If my heart hath been enticed to a married ivo?na?i. 
Or I have lain in wait at my neighbor's door, 
Then let my wife gratify another, 
And let others bow down upon her; 
For this is the basest wickedness, 
And a crime to be punished by the Judge; 
It is a fire consuming to destruction; 
It would root out all mine increase.' 

" Such are the noble sentiments of Job in regard to this part 
of the Divine Law — sentiments that would do honor to any 



260 APPENDIX. 

era of the world, and in entire congeniality with the gospel 
of Christ. 

" Overwhelmed by accumulated calamities as Job was, 
and therefore strongly tempted to abridge his own existence 
by violent means, we find him not merely revolting from 
this impious practice, but calmly professing his determina- 
tion to abide the issue : — 

' All the days of my appointed time 
I will wait, till my release shall come.' 

*' This thorough confidence in God, as one who does not 
affiict willingly, nor grieve the children of men, is in striking 
contrast to the conduct of those, who, whenever their pros- 
pects are clouded, rush to self-destruction as a relief: — 

'When all the blandishments of life are gone, 
The sinner creeps to death — the saint lives on.' 

" The examples of Achitophel and Judas are quite sufficient, 
were there no other reasons for deterring, to bring this dread- 
ful crime into utter disrepute. 

" The worship of the One True God, to the exclusion of 
all false deities, is plainly an article in the patriarch's creed. 
Sabaism, or the adoration of the celestial luminaries, was 
probably the only species of idolatry existing in Job's time; 
and for aught we know, had become prevalent in his and in 
the neighboring countries. But how indignantly does he 
renounce every departure of this kind from the allegiance he 
owed to Jehovah, when he says, — 

' If I have looked with a superstitious eye 
At the sun, when he shone in his strength, 
Or the moon, when she walked in her brightness, 
And my heart hath been secretly enticed, 
And I have worshipped by carrying my hand to my mouth, 
I should have been chargeable with a great transgression, 
For I should have denied the Supreme God.' 

"An abhorrence of deceit is also a feature in the moral 



APPENDIX. 26l 

character of Job. Any attempt to overreach his neighbor, or 
even to covet what belonged to him, still more to accept a 
bribe as an inducement to perpetrate injustice, he pronounces 
to be far from his thoughts. He says, — 

'If I have acted fraudulently, 
And my foot hath hastened to dishonesty, 
Let me be weighed in a just balance, 
That God may know mine integrity. 
If my step hath turned from the right way, 
And my heart hath gone after mine eyes; 
If any bribe hath cleaved to my hands, 
Then may I sow and another eat; 
Let another root out what I have planted.' 

" A man's soundness of principle may safely be judged of 
by his conduct towards the members of his own family, and 
especially towards his domestic servants. In this point of , 
view Job's character stands very high, since he professes 
before God, as well as before man, a conscientious regard to 
his dependants, and a determination to treat them equitably, 

1 If I denied justice to my man-servant, 
Or to my maid-servant, when they disputed with me, 
What then should I do, when God maketh inquest? 
When He inquires, what answer should I give? 
Did not He who formed me form them? 
Were we not fashioned alike in the womb?' 

" In ancient times, slaves had no action at law against their 
owners; they might dispose of them as they did of their 
cattle, or any other property. The slave might complain, 
and the owner might hear him if he pleased, but he was not 
compelled to do so. Job states that he had admitted his ser- 
vants to all civil rights; and, far from preventing their case 
from being heard, he was ready to permit them to complain 
even against himself, if they had a cause of complaint, and 
to give them all the benefit of the law. 

" Strict equity in dealing, though in itself laudable, is in- 



262 APPENDIX. 

sufficient to constitute a man truly amiable in the eyes of his 
fellow-men, unless it be accompanied by frequent acts of 
benevolence and charity; proving that, though justice be 
the rule of his conduct, compassion and generosity dwell 
with it in the same bosom, and are readily exercised when 
occasion calls. This Job protests to be a part of his own dis- 
position : — 

' If I withheld from the poor what they asked, 
Or have grieved the eyes of the widow, 
Or have eaten my morsel alone, 
And the orphan hath not partaken with me; 
If from my youth I did not nourish them as a father; 
If from my earliest years I was not the widow's guide ; 
If I have seen any perish for want of clothing, 
Or any poor man without raiment.' 

" Pursuing an open and ingenuous course, with a con- 
science unsullied, and a countenance unabashed, Job attempt- 
ed nothing like concealment of what was passing within his 
mind. He had nothing to hide, nothing to palliate. He 
was a living, walking, acting model of integrity, formed 
upon the reverential fear of God, and a scrupulous regard to 
his commandments. He offers to subject himself to any in- 
famy or punishment, if his fellow-men could discover in him 
any delinquency. 

'If, human-like, I concealed my sin, 
And hid my transgression in my bosom ; 
Let me be confounded before the multitude; 
Let me be covered with public contempt; 
Let me be dumb, nor dare to go abroad.' 

" He is so entirely confident of the purity and uprightness 
of his conduct and motives, that he proposes, in language of 
astonishing boldness and grandeur, to meet the scanning eye 
of the All-seeing himself, and lay his soul open to his dread 
inspection. There is neither pride nor arrogance, presump- 
tion nor vain-glory, in thus demeaning himself. Self-vindi- 



APPENDIX. 263 

cation rendered it necessary, as regarded his fellow-men ; 
and, as regards God, it is only the language of an undaunted 
child of God appealing to his Father for the sincerity of his 
affection; an appeal, we may presume, more pleasing than 
offensive to the Most High. 

1 O that God would deign to hear me! 
This is my declaration : let the Almighty reply to it; 
Let my opponent write down the charge : 
Surely I would wear it on my shoulder; 
I would bind it round me like a diadem; 
I would disclose to him the number of my steps ; 
I would approach him with the boldness of a prince/ 

" But without further comment, we may here give a sum- 
mary of the other branches of morality to which this holy 
man gave due observance, as we collect them from his own 
protestations. 

" So far was he from neglecting the cause of the poor, and 
thereby incurring their imprecations, that he had gained 
their deepest reverence and attachment, as their uniform and 
steadfast benefactor. 

1 When the ear heard me, then it blessed me; 
When the eye saw me, it gave signs of approbation. 
The blessing of him who was perishing came upon me, 
And I caused the widow's heart to sing for joy.* 

" In his capacity as judge, he discharged his office with un- 
deviating rectitude, and his decisions were fully approved of. 

* I put on equity, and clothed myself with it; 
My justice was as a robe and a diadem. 
I was eyes to the blind; 
I was feet to the lame; 
I was a father to the destitute ; 
And I inquired carefully into the cause of the stranger.' 

" He was the friend, the protector, and adviser of the 
widow and the orphan. Chap. xxxi. 16, 17. 



264 APPENDIX. 

" He would not defraud of their wages the laborers who 
cultivated his land. Chap. xxxi. 39. 

" He exercised in its fullest extent the virtue of hospitality. 

'The stranger lodged not in the street; 
My door was open to every comer.' 

The consequence of all which conduct was, that he was 
received with reverence, affection, and gratitude wherever 
he went; no one presuming to speak till he had done, to add 
to what he said, or to suggest anything as being preferable 
or wiser. Thej T listened patiently to his counsels, they grate- 
fully followed his advice. 

1 To me men gave ear and attended; 
They were silent at my admonition. 
After I had spoken they replied not; 
For my reasons dropped on them as dew: 
They waited for me as for a spring-shower; 
They opened wide their mouths, as for the harvest-rain.' 

™ The young shrank back from the presence of their emir 
through modesty; the aged rose to meet him from respect. 
Confident of all this, Job at one time expected to die as he 
had lived, in calmness and prosperity, reaping the fruits of 
his piety and rectitude, and seeing his posterity enjoy the 
advantage of their progenitor's exalted reputation. 

' Then I said, I shall die in my nest ; 
I shall multiply my days as the palm-tree; 
My root shall spread out to the waters; 
The dew of night shall repose on my branches; 
My glory shall be unfading around me, 
And my bow continue fresh in my hand.' " 



